Life and Death in Arendelle
by Sam Tailor
Summary: The day after Elsa froze her kingdom, the diplomats and dignitaries that had attended her coronation sailed home. Did Elsa really think they would allow her power to go unchallenged? Did she really believe the Duke of Weselton and Prince Hans would forego revenge for their humiliation? And why can't she stop thinking about Rapunzel? (Elsa/Rapunzel, Flynn/Rapunzel, Kristoff/Anna)
1. Aftermath

**Aftermath 1.1**

Rapunzel woke to darkness. She blinked, to no avail. It was as though she'd been struck blind.

She tried to reach forward. Her arm wouldn't move. She tried again, harder this time, and heard a dull clank. She winced with pain as sharp metal dug into her wrist. She was chained and manacled to a wall.

Where was she? What had happened to her? Fear choked her. She tried to scream but she couldn't make a sound. Her heart beat wildly. She was unable to move.

She rocked her head desperately and felt her long hair shift around her body. Its familiar weight reassured her. She closed her eyes and took long, deep breaths until her heart slowed.

A key rasped in a lock and a small door creaked open directly in front of her. Light! She almost sobbed with relief.

An old women, bent and frail, but richly dressed in a brocade gown, ducked down to fit through the door. She held up a burning torch, illuminating her withered face.

Rapunzel gasped. "Mother!"

The old woman spat on the floor, then stuck the torch into a bracket on the wall. "You always were simple," she hissed, leering at Rapunzel through the lank strands of her thin white hair. "But I don't put up with you because of your mind."

Rapunzel blanched. No mother could look at her daughter with such hatred. "You're Gothel!" she exclaimed. "You stole me from my mother."

"She remembers!" cackled Gothel. She gathered up several long loops of Rapunzel's shining hair and draped them over her bony shoulders like a golden shawl. "Enough chit chat, you little bitch. Sing the song."

"But where's Flynn?" Bits and pieces were started to come back, but she was still confused. She staggered to her feet. "Eugene, I mean. He was just here."

Gothel snarled. "Sing the song!"

"He's dead." The memory struck Rapunzel like a physical blow. She collapsed to her knees. She looked up accusingly. "You killed him."

Gothel slapped Rapunzel sharply across the face. "Of course I killed him! You disobeyed me!" She slapped Rapunzel again. This time her jagged nails drew blood. "Traitor! Slut!"

Rapunzel tried to turn away, but Gothel grabbed her jaw and shook it, rattling her teeth. "Falling in love with the first man you meet. Slag!" Spittle sprayed across her face. The spit mingled with her blood and trickled down her cheeks.

"Stupid child," Gothel whispered in her ear. The witch's breath was hot, her voice cold. "What did I say? Somewhere no one would ever find you." She pulled the loops of golden hair more tightly around her bony shoulders. "Stop stalling and sing the song."

Rapunzel shook her head stubbornly. "I won't! And you can't make me!"

"Can't I?" asked Gothel.

"If you kill me," Rapunzel retorted, "you'll be dead in less than a day."

Gothel grabbed the torch and held the flame under Rapunzel's arm. Rapunzel screamed in agony. She hadn't imagined any pain could be so horrible. She flailed uselessly against her chains. She screamed again.

"Punz! Punz! Wake up!"

Strong hands gently shook her. The pain faded but she was still unable to move. Her muscles were rigid, as though her entire body had cramped up. Cautiously, she opened her eyes.

Eugene Fitzherbert, his dark chestnut hair a tangled mess, was leaning over her, his dark eyes full of concern. Beyond him she could see a clean white room. Large windows showed a blue sky and bright morning sunlight.

Her muscles slowly relaxed. She started to sob, quietly, in sheer relief, but carefully, without shedding any tears. It was important that she not cry.

"The same nightmare, wasn't it," said Eugene heavily.

Rapunzel nodded. She could still feel the manacles slicing into her wrists.

She stretched cautiously, running her hands over the down-filled comforter. Its warmth calmed her. She reached up and tucked a rogue lock of Eugene's hair back behind his ear.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Rapunzel shook her head, but her eyes never left his. They were warmer than the comforter. They made her feel safe and loved. "I was alone again. In the dark."

He kissed her gently on the forehead. "I'll always be with you, Punz."

She crooked one eyebrow at him and half-closed her other eye. "Always?" she teased.

"Always. At least until another beautiful and brilliant princess comes along. Although…" Eugene paused, bouncing a forefinger off his chin. "We are in Arendelle, and there are two extremely eligible princesses in this palace. Now I wonder—"

Rapunzel pushed him hard in the chest. "You're terrible!"

"Oof!" said Eugene, exaggerating the impact of the blow. He scowled down at her with mock ferocity. "You little minx!" He grabbed her slender waist with both hands and tickled her just below the ribs.

Rapunzel giggled uncontrollably and squirmed, trying half-heartedly to push his hands away. He captured both of her hands in one of his and pinned them behind her head. His other hand slid slowly up her body. He nibbled on her neck. She arched beneath him, then sucked on his earlobe.

"What can I do to hold your affections?" she breathed.

"I'll think of something," Eugene said cheerfully. Their lips met. Rapunzel smiled blissfully.

There was a loud rapping on the door.

"Come back later!" bellowed Eugene. The knock repeated, louder and more insistent. Rapunzel bit her lip with frustration, then laughed. Eugene groaned. His head crashed down next to Rapunzel's. "Timing," he muttered indistinctly into the pillow. "How do these royal servants always nail the timing?"

He raised his head and looked at Rapunzel from point blank range. "To be continued," he promised. He jumped vigorously out of bed and wrapped himself in a robe. Rapunzel dove under the covers, peeking out as Eugene pompously placed one hand on the window sill and the other in the pocket of the robe.

"You may enter," he said languidly. Rapunzel muffled her giggle in the comforter. The door swung open and a tall, thin man with a dour face walked stiffly into the room.

"Her royal majesty, Queen Elsa of Arendelle, invites Princess Rapunzel of Corona and, uh, Mr. Fitzherbert to dine with her today at noon."

Rapunzel watched as Eugene sighed and pretended to examine his fingernails. "Another banquet, I suppose. How many will be attending this time? Twenty? Thirty?"

The steward shifted uncomfortably. "No, sir. The queen informed me that four would be dining."

Eugene frowned. "And the fourth?"

"The queen's sister, sir. Princess Anna."

"What about old rat-face?"

"The Duke of Weselton has already departed."

"And that smarmy prince, Hans?"

The steward coughed discreetly. "The Prince of the Southern Isles is also no longer in Arendelle."

"And the diplomats?" asked Eugene curiously. "They've all fled as well, I suppose."

"Yes, sir." The steward paused. "Yesterday's events were, shall we say, unsettling for our foreign guests."

"Really," said Eugene. "You don't say." He glanced over at the bed. Rapunzel stuck her hand out and gave him the thumbs-up. Eugene grinned. "Please inform the queen that we will be delighted to join her. And her sister."

"Very good, sir," said the steward. He bowed and withdrew.

Rapunzel clambered out from under the covers and joined Eugene at the window. From here, she could look right across the castle bridge and into Arendelle's main square. The great open area, which yesterday had been buried in snow and ice, was once again filled with the stalls and cheerful bustling of the daily market. Merchants haggled with housewives, while children shouted and chased each other through the crowds.

The sight was mesmerizing. She could see stalls flying the flags of the Southern Isles, Schleswig, even their own Corona. But the largest stalls, the gaudiest, the grandest, belonged to the merchants of Weselton.

She snuck a glance at Eugene. He, too, was watching the sights of Market Square. She slid down from the windowsill with a sigh and moved over to her vanity mirror, a little annoyed at Eugene for being so easily distracted. She picked up a brush and ran it absently through her short brown locks. "In the dream I still have my hair," she said.

Eugene didn't move away from the window. "You could grow it out," he suggested. "Maybe not seventy feet, but at least a couple more inches."

Rapunzel shook her head decisively. "This is the haircut you gave me. It's just…." She trailed off, hoping to lure him over.

Eugene finally turned away from the window. He came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Just what?" he asked.

She threw down the brush and yanked on her hair. "How can you love me like this?" she wailed. "I look like a mouse, a little mouse. I'm so ugly!"

Eugene wrinkled his nose at her in the mirror. "Hideous," he agreed. "I can't think why I keep you around." He grinned, that smug, self-satisfied grin that infuriated and intoxicated her at the same time.

Rapunzel turned and hit him in the arm with her brush. "Don't joke, Gene. I'm serious."

"So am I," said Eugene. He kissed the back of her neck. She shivered pleasantly. It was getting harder, pretending to be upset. "I wonder if Anna's dating anyone. Maybe I'll break out the ol' smoulder at lunch and find out."

"Don't you dare," said Rapunzel.

She pulled away from him and went back over to the window, hoping he'd follow. She brushed her fingers across the glass and shivered, remembering how just yesterday the ice had crept across it.

She felt Eugene approach. He pressed his firm body against her back and wrapped his hands around her waist. "When's that husband of yours due back?" he whispered, brushing the top of her ear with his lips.

She smiled secretly in triumph. "I don't know," she said severely, "but you'd better leave. If he finds you here, he's liable to do anything."

His hands moved down. "Then I'd better work fast," he growled. She canted her hips into him and whimpered softly.

"You're crazy," she whispered. "You're crazy."

He turned her around roughly to face him. "Stop talking, princess." She tried to push him away, but he was too strong. He lifted her chin and kissed her hard on the mouth.

Her voice was ragged when she surfaced. "Oh, Flynn."

"You're mine, blondie. Never forget it. Mine."

"Yes."

"Tell me whose you are."

"Yours. I'm yours."

He kissed her again. "That's my good girl."

* * *

**Aftermath 1.2**

Elsa had a problem. Two problems, really. Her hands. She didn't know where to put them. And Anna would be arriving any moment. She had to get this right.

She tried resting her hands on the arms of her chair. That was no good! She would look like she was sitting on a throne. Anna would think she was putting distance between them. That would mean failure.

She tried leaning forward and bracing her hands on her desk. That was no good! She would look over-eager. Anna would think she didn't really want them to spend time together. That would mean failure.

Where were her gloves? She felt naked without them. She spun around and spotted them resting on the divan near the window. She picked them up, started to pull them on, then stopped abruptly. That was no good! She would look defensive and cold.

Cold.

She knew what people thought of her. She was the ice queen, dangerous and unpredictable. Fear prickled her skin. She started pacing. The small brass swan on the mantle was facing the wrong way. She stopped to fix it. Lines of ice shot across the swan's body and bloomed into fractal patterns before creeping towards the wall.

She snatched her hand away and pulled her gloves on, trembling.

The door opened and her sister walked hesitantly into the room. Anna had tied up her light auburn hair into a chignon. She was clearly nervous, but her face was open and cheerful.

Elsa flung her arms around her sister. "Anna!" she cried in relief. "It's so good to see you."

Her sister held the hug. "It's good to see you, too," Anna whispered. The knowledge that Anna loved her filled Elsa with confidence. Her fear vanished. The ice on the mantel melted into the air.

"About yesterday—"

Anna interrupted her. "I don't blame you," she said. "I know it was an accident. Besides, it wasn't all bad. You saved the day and I met Kristoff." Elsa winced as her sister's face turned serious. "But, you also did something we need to talk about."

"You mean expelling Prince Hans and the Duke of Weselton," acknowledged Elsa. She paused as two servants bustled in, pushing a trolley cart that revealed a steaming coffee pot, two cups on white saucers, and a tray loaded with chocolates and sweet treats. "I know it wasn't the best move politically," she continued. "But they did try to kill me."

"Not that." Anna waved her hand dismissively. "I mean Olaf." She turned towards the door. "You can come in now," she said loudly.

Olaf waddled in cheerfully. "Oh boy, a party! There's coffee, and little cakes! But only two chairs." He looked at them reproachfully. There was a silence, except for Olaf's personal storm cloud, which emitted tiny lightning bolts, cracks of thunder, and the intermittent flurry of snow.

Technically, Elsa remembered Olaf. They'd skated together the previous evening. However, the ramifications of a sentient snowman hadn't yet seeped their way into her brain. Now, in the cold light of morning, she was completely nonplussed.

"He was just wandering around in Market Square," said Anna matter-of-factly. "I know he was skating around yesterday, out in the open and all, but people were still startled to see him."

Elsa decided to say something intelligent and witty. "Uhh…"

"And I was thinking," continued Anna, "that just letting him walk wherever might not be the best idea. For you. And for them. And for him. For everyone, really."

Meanwhile, Olaf was poking at the steaming coffee-pot with a finger, watching his finger melt, guffawing, reforming his finger, and repeating the process.

Elsa stared at him. "Olaf?"

The snowman turned awkwardly. "Elsa!" He spread his stick arms wide, as though expecting a hug. When she didn't move his arms deflated back down to his sides. "Were you talking about me?" he asked shyly.

"Maybe," said Anna. She glanced at her sister pleadingly.

Elsa gently reached out to hold Olaf's hand. The twigs of his fingers crackled alarmingly. His whole arm felt enormously fragile, as though with the slightest effort she could pull it out of his soft body. She carefully led him into her bedroom, where she helped him climb up and stand on the windowsill.

"I think it would be better if you stayed here, Olaf. Just for the time being." She pointed out the window to distract him. "Look, you can see the harbor and all the ships as they load and unload."

"They look so small from here," sighed Olaf. "Why are there so few ships? Oh, that's right, you crushed most of them yesterday." He guffawed. "I wonder if the ship people are angry? Oh, there are flags on the ships and each one is different. How many different flags are there?" He started counting on his fingers. "One. Two. Three. Four. No, that's the same flag as that one. Four. Five. Wait, I lost track. One. Two."

Anna pulled Elsa away and they moved back to the sitting room. Anna poured them each a cup of coffee. Elsa took a sip. Invigorating warmth spread through her. "If we want Weselton to continue to trade with us," she admitted, "we'll probably have to pay for the ships I damaged."

Anna coughed slightly. "You know you declared sanctions against Weselton, right?"

Elsa made a face. "That horrid little man! Did you see how his toupee jumped around while he was dancing?" They both started laughing.

"Elsa, you should have seen Kristoff yesterday!" cried Anna, her eyes bright. "First he carried me here to save me. Then he came back to save me. Riding Sven, of course. That's his reindeer. He's like this great overgrown puppy. Sven, I mean. Not Kristoff."

Elsa laughed merrily. "He sounds wonderful. Kristoff, I mean. Not Sven."

"He is," gushed Anna. "When I'm with him, I feel special." Tears streamed down her face and dripped into her coffee cup.

Elsa couldn't believe how quickly her sister's mood had shifted. "Anna! Anna, what's wrong?"

Anna blinked away her tears. "Why, Elsa?" she whispered. "Why did you shut me out?"

Elsa's heart started hammering. "I didn't want to!" she stammered. "Mama, papa, the trolls, they all insisted. Not telling you broke my heart. I was so afraid—"

"Afraid of what?"

"Afraid that you would hate me! That you would look at me like I was a monster!"

"And all the while," said Anna wryly, "I was thinking you hated me." She took a deep breath. "No more secrets, Elsa. No more lies."

Elsa started babbling. "No. Of course. Yes. Absolutely. Whatever you want."

"The trolls," started Anna. Then she stopped. Her face terrified Elsa. Only at that moment did she understand how horribly the Grand Pabbie had violated Anna. They had been children. With a visible effort, Anna continued. "Did they do something to my memories? Alter them?"

"Yes," Elsa whispered. Her hands shook. She took another sip of coffee to steady herself. It tasted horrible. She wondered if she was going to throw up.

"Why, Elsa? Why did they do it?"

She knew Anna wasn't talking about the Grand Pabbie. She was talking about their parents. "They had to!"

"They had to," repeated Anna dully.

Elsa started talking, as though compelled. Perhaps Anna was going to hate her no matter what she said. But if Anna was going to hate her, it wouldn't be for a lie. It would be for the truth.

"When we were little, I hurt you by accident. It was an accident, Anna, like yesterday, but you were dying, and our parents took you to the trolls. They just wanted to save you, Anna! I hated myself for hurting you. For years, I've hated myself. Please don't hate me, too, Anna. I couldn't bear it."

Elsa began to sob uncontrollably. If Anna hated her now, she would have no one. She would be all alone.

"Sounds like neither of us got to have a childhood." Anna grimaced. "Darn mama and papa! They sure messed us up royally."

Elsa giggled, almost hiccuping through her tears. "Royally! That's not fair, Anna, making me laugh."

Anna took Elsa's hand. "We can't change the past. But we have to treat each other properly from now on."

Elsa nodded eagerly. "And we won't let anything come between us ever again."

Anna seemed to mull that over, then nodded resolutely. "Kristoff will understand," she said. Then she brightened. "At least those stuffy diplomats are gone."

Elsa made a face. "About that…" She trailed off. Anna groaned. "The princess of Corona is still here. I promised her an audience."

"Tell her to go jump in a lake," grumbled Anna.

"I've already offended Weselton and the Southern Isles," Elsa pleaded. "I can't afford to upset Corona. I just can't."

Anna sighed. "You're the queen. You should do what's right for Arendelle."

Elsa hugged her sister. "Thank you," she said gratefully.

"Just don't mention the elephant in the room," continued Anna. "Because, let's face it, the last two days have been a disaster. Let's not make it three in a row."

"No elephants," agreed Elsa. "Got it."

* * *

**Aftermath 1.3**

Elsa decided to dress conservatively for lunch. She was the queen now, and conveying a certain formality was appropriate. Especially after yesterday. She chose a black dress, with a minimum of cleavage. She tightly braided her long, blonde hair and pulled her gloves on firmly. She checked herself in the mirror and smiled.

She entered her private dining room and blood rushed to her face. The princess of Corona had gone in the other direction. She wore a dark red silk dress, cut short. The material clung to her thighs and the swell of her breasts. Her hair was short and dark, almost boyish, and her restless energy crackled across the room. She radiated health. Elsa had never seen anyone so alive, not even Anna.

Elsa flushed. She felt dull and colorless next to her guest. She looked around anxiously for Anna, but her sister hadn't arrived yet. Elsa took a deep breath and walked over to the princess. Her eyes, Elsa noticed, were green. The background noise seemed to fade away.

The princess curtseyed gracefully. "Rapunzel, your majesty." She peeked over her shoulder and visibly brightened. A young man, impeccably tailored and groomed, had just entered the room. "This is my husband, Eugene Fitzherbert."

Elsa smiled graciously. "Please, call me Elsa." She shook Eugene's hand firmly. The man was certainly handsome. Confident, as well, if the steadiness of his gaze and the curl of his lip meant anything. He was probably used to women falling over themselves. He reminded her of arrogant suitors, men who had treated her as a prize, not as a person.

"Thank you for accepting my invitation," she continued, addressing Rapunzel. "I hope yesterday doesn't make you think less of me."

"Not at all," said Eugene, with a touch of humor. "A story worth the trip."

"Just remember to make me look good. Lie outrageously."

Rapunzel laughed merrily. Elsa, slightly giddy, found herself laughing as well. She wondered if what she'd said had really been as clever as all that. Anna came up beside her, dressed modestly in a sky blue gown with a high waist.

"My sister, the princess Anna. Anna, you just missed our guests being extremely gracious."

Rapunzel stepped forward and embraced Anna tightly. "I'm Rapunzel, and this is Eugene," she said breathlessly. "You were wonderful yesterday! We saw you, through the window, defending your sister against that creepy Prince Hans."

Anna chuckled self-consciously. "Pure selfishness. I knew if Elsa died, I'd have to be queen. And being a princess is much more fun. Don't you agree?"

Rapunzel laughed and nodded. She squeezed Eugene's arm and looked up at him adoringly. Elsa felt a strange surge of jealousy. She cleared her throat. "I sent that smarmy bastard packing," she said. "In the brig of a French ship."

Eugene frowned. "You don't worry about a response from the Southern Isles?"

Elsa couldn't believe he was bringing up politics before dinner. She arched an eyebrow, surprised at his gaucheness. It clashed with his appearance and mannerisms. "Should I be?"

"My apologies, your majesty." He bowed slightly. "I realize that your father achieved Arendelle's independence, but it's no secret the Southern Isles still tax your country. King Westergaard's pride may not allow him to ignore the insult."

A hundred withering criticisms sprang to Elsa's mind. She decided to put her guest in his place. Anna saved her. "The only insult," said her sister tartly, "was the arrogance of Hans, thinking anyone would believe that I'd married him." She gestured towards the dining table. It was buried beneath silverware, stemware, and china plates. "Shall we?"

They sat down to eat. Rapunzel and Anna did most of the talking. Elsa listened. Her attention kept being drawn towards Rapunzel. The dark-haired princess confused her. She was determined to figure out why.

"These modern ships go so quickly," Rapunzel was saying. She dunked a piece of bread into her fish soup. "And we were lucky with the weather. Steady winds and not a single storm. The three days flew by."

Elsa and Anna shared a glance. Eugene reached over and massaged Rapunzel's shoulder for a moment. Elsa could almost see the elephant, swinging its truck across the table, demanding to be recognized. She braced against the inevitable.

"I wasn't thinking," Rapunzel whispered. She stared guiltily at Elsa. Elsa was shocked to hear tears in her voice. She felt a strange urge to comfort her. "I shouldn't have brought it up."

"It's all right," said Anna kindly.

"It's not all right," said Rapunzel. She took a deep breath. "Your parents died sailing to our wedding. We're to blame."

"It wasn't your fault," said Elsa automatically. She knew they were the words she was supposed to say, but her heart wasn't in them.

Rapunzel shook her head wildly. She almost seemed angry. "Of course it's our fault. If we hadn't gotten married, your parents would still be alive."

"Don't say that," said Anna sharply. "Don't even think it."

"Why not?" asked Rapunzel. "It's true."

"Nobody blames you," said Eugene softly.

Rapunzel's eyes flashed. "I blame me." She stared at Elsa. Her enormous green eyes were hypnotizing. Elsa couldn't look away. "You must hate me."

Elsa hesitated. "I did, a little," she admitted.

"Elsa!" cried Anna.

Elsa didn't back down. For some reason, telling the truth seemed important. "You found your parents and then we lost ours. I couldn't help hating you. But I don't any more." She felt lighter, having said it. Cleaner.

"Thank you," whispered Rapunzel. She reached up and clasped Eugene's hand tightly in her own.

"Good." Elsa scowled in mock ferocity. "As queen, I absolutely forbid you from feeling guilty." She was rewarded with a small laugh from Rapunzel. Elsa leaned forward. "If you must feel bad," she continued conspiratorially, "feel bad for Kristoff Bjorgman. Do you know what Anna's done to him?"

"What?" asked Rapunzel. She leaned forward as well, her eyes bright.

"My sister is responsible," whispered Elsa loudly, "not only for his sled - fully paid off, mind you - being smashed to pieces at the bottom of a crevasse, but also for his having to solve an impossible problem."

"What problem?" asked Eugene.

Elsa didn't take her eyes off Rapunzel. "How to date a redhead."

"Auburn!" Anna corrected. She hit Elsa on the arm.

Rapunzel glanced up as the main course arrived. "But that's wonderful! How long have you been together?"

"Oh, ages," said Anna airily, stabbing a boiled potato with a fork. "Or at least since yesterday."

Rapunzel nodded politely. "I can't wait to meet him." She turned back to Elsa. "Tell me more about Arendelle. I had hoped to explore, but you prevented that with your impromptu blizzard. I was very put out." She pouted prettily.

Elsa grinned. "I apologize for the inconvenience." She indicated her gloves. "I'm still learning how to control my power."

"Do you practice?" asked Rapunzel eagerly. "I'd love to watch."

Before Elsa could reply, the door to the dining room slammed open and an enormous bear of a man entered like a storm, scowling ferociously. Captain Johannes carried a single folded sheet of paper, sealed with wax, in his left hand. His right arm was missing just below the shoulder.

Elsa glared at him. "Captain. I specifically ordered we were not to be interrupted."

"Your majesty," said Johannes. He sank to one knee and handed her the letter. She couldn't help comparing him to Rapunzel's husband. Eugene was dapper. Johannes looked like a backwoods nightmare: unshaven, scarred, powerfully muscled. His rough clothes were splattered with mud. But his size and strength made Eugene look like a toy, all paint and polish. Elsa felt quite smug about that.

She scanned the letter quickly. "This dispatch is from—"

"Yes, your majesty," interrupted Johannes grimly. He glanced suspiciously at their guests.

Elsa drummed her gloved fingers on the table, nodded crisply, and returned the letter. "Thank you, Captain. Please wait for me in the anteroom."

"Your majesty." Johannes stood up and left.

"Do you need to go?" Rapunzel asked. "If it's important…" she trailed off.

"I have no secrets from Corona," replied Elsa briskly. "The Duke of Weselton has sent messengers to intercept all merchant vessels. He may be planning an embargo."

"I advise conciliation, your majesty," said Eugene. Elsa couldn't believe the nerve of the man. Was he seriously trying to advise her on policy? "Weselton controls the seas. Any trade embargo would be felt in Arendelle immediately. Sugar. Coffee. Chocolate."

"Chocolate!" cried Anna. "Oh, Elsa. Here I was thinking the conversation had turned boring, but now I realize this is life and death."

Eugene cleared his throat awkwardly. "My apologies for bringing up politics, but since it was your man Johannes who—"

"Wasn't he a clotheshorse," interrupted Rapunzel. She giggled naughtily. Elsa silently thanked her. Perhaps the dark-haired beauty was used to keeping her husband's foot out of his mouth.

"And so chatty!" responded Anna.

Rapunzel rolled her eyes. "All those opinions about hairstyles and dresses."

Elsa laughed, joining in. "I thought he'd never shut up!" She made a flappy talking motion with her hand. "Blah, blah, blah." Rapunzel and Anna both laughed. Eugene smiled tightly.

After dinner, Elsa spoke briefly with Johannes. The others moved to the library. By the time Elsa rejoined them, Anna was chatting merrily with Rapunzel on one of the large leather couches. Eugene asked Elsa if he could talk with her privately. Reluctantly, she led him to a corner of the room, up against the bookshelves.

Eugene spoke nervously. "Your majesty, how long has Arendelle been independent of The Southern Isles?"

Elsa shrugged. "Twenty years."

"But you still pay tribute."

"I wouldn't use that word," replied Elsa tartly. "We have contractual payment obligations."

Eugene pursed his lips. "The Southern Isles has a colonial attitude towards Arendelle. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Do you have a point, Mr. Fitzherbert?" Elsa asked. She was starting to think he deserved his absurd name. She glanced over at the couch enviously.

"Just this." Eugene took a deep breath. "You expelled a prince of The Southern Isles. You accused him of crimes against the throne. How do you expect his father, King Westergaard, to react?"

Elsa crossed her arms sullenly. "Nothing has changed."

"Everything has changed!" roared Eugene. Anna and Rapunzel stopped talking. Elsa forced a smile and gave them a little wave, half-hoping Rapunzel would come over and rescue her. Eugene lowered his voice. "You crushed ships like matches. You brought this city to its knees in a single day."

Elsa glared at him. He was really starting to get on her nerves. "I saved the city."

"From yourself," Eugene retorted. "The secret's out. You're strong."

"You mean I'm dangerous."

"You've disrupted the balance of power between nations. That's dangerous for everyone." He looked very serious. She thought about the messengers of the Duke of Weselton. If Eugene was right, a storm was gathering.

Anna slipped an arm around her waist, interrupting her dark thoughts. "Enough skulking in corners, you two."

Elsa immediately went over to talk to Rapunzel. The princess smiled warmly. "Hey, you," said Rapunzel.

Elsa sprawled onto the couch next to her. "All on your own, I see."

"All alone," Rapunzel replied sadly. Then she grinned. "Are you here to rescue me?"

"That depends," teased Elsa. "Are you worth rescuing?" Her fear and anger melted away. Despite the doom and gloom of Mr. Fitzherbert, she felt absurdly happy.

Rapunzel swatted Elsa's shoulder, but her eyes were playful. "You're awful! I can't see why Anna protected you yesterday."

"She loves me."

"Are you worthy of such love?"

"Maybe not," she admitted. "I'm dangerous, your highness." She shuddered, remembering Anna's frozen skin, before she'd miraculously thawed. It had been as hard as marble. "I've hurt people who love me."

Rapunzel tossed her head. With her short hair, it looked adorable. "Well, you needn't brag about it."

Elsa decided to change the subject. "Now that you're friends with my sister, she's going to expect constant visits."

Rapunzel clasped her hands together. "I'd love to visit again! This trip was far too short."

Elsa tried to hide her disappointment. "You're still sailing in the morning?"

"Eugene says we have to." She sounded apologetic. "But you and your sister have made me feel so welcome. I know I'll be back."

It wasn't a promise, exactly, but it gave Elsa hope.

* * *

**Aftermath 1.4**

Rapunzel didn't waste any time starting a fight once they were back in their room.

"I don't want to leave tomorrow," she said defiantly.

Eugene pulled a trunk out of the closet and started tossing shirts. "This isn't up for debate, Punz. I need to talk to the crew but, weather permitting, we'll be sails up at first light."

Rapunzel crossed her arms. "Just like that. You get to decide all by yourself."

"In this case, yes. So you can keep arguing or you can get ready." He started throwing socks.

Rapunzel glared. He refused to even discuss the issue. How typical. "Why are you being like this? I just made new friends."

"You have friends back in Corona."

"I'm the royal princess! I don't have friends. Servants, yes. Courtiers, yes. Pompous kiss-asses, coming out of my ears. But no one I can talk to as an equal. Not like I can talk to Anna."

"And the queen?" asked Eugene.

"Elsa?" Rapunzel flounced down on the bed. "She acts tough but she's sweet. You should have heard her talk about her power, like it was some wild animal and she wasn't sure if she'd locked the cage."

"That's exactly why we need to leave."

"Because of Elsa?" She tried to read his face, but he'd gone cold and hard, as though he was really worried. How silly. "What are you, afraid of her?"

Eugene slammed the lid of his trunk. She jumped. He sat down next to her and put his mouth to her ear. "We almost died yesterday!" he hissed, "Yes, I'm afraid of her. Only an idiot wouldn't be."

"So she wrecked a few boats," Rapunzel retorted. "I thought you were brave!" She could feel the heat of his body. It seemed silly to fight. She put her hand on his thigh. "Gene," she said quietly, "did you find Elsa very pretty?"

Eugene snorted. "Pretty as an icicle, I'd say."

"I'm serious." She moved her hand up slightly. "Was she prettier than me?"

"No one's prettier than you, Punz." He pecked her on the tip of the nose and stood up.

Rapunzel reached for him. "Why don't you come sit with me?"

"I need to get down to the docks."

She clung to him, insistent. "I need you," she whispered.

"I want you too, Punz. But this has to get done." He gently disengaged himself.

Rapunzel slumped back. She couldn't even get her own husband into bed. "I don't know what you're so afraid of," she said petulantly. "Anna seemed perfectly relaxed. I bet she and Kristoff get married soon. By this time next year they could have a baby!"

Eugene turned away from the door. He crouched down in front of her. "Oh, Punz. Is that why you're upset?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said defiantly, but her voice trembled.

"You're only twenty-three," Eugene reminded her. "How long have we been trying, six months?"

"Eight."

"That's not so long." Rapunzel looked at him incredulously, but he just chucked her under the chin and got to his feet. "Everything will be all right, you'll see. Now hold the fort, and I'll be back before you know it."

He closed the door behind him.

* * *

**Aftermath 1.5**

"You wanted to see me, your majesty?" said Kristoff humbly.

Elsa looked up from a pile of documents, glad for the respite. She'd underestimated the demands of the crown. Everyone wanted something from her, but their wants conflicted with each other. There was so much she needed to figure out. The consequences were high; every decision she made would impact the lives of her people.

She considered Kristoff. The iceman was tall and well-built. His face was open and honest, but not without intelligence. Most importantly, he was loyal.

"Congratulations, Mr. Bjorgman," she said briskly. "You've just been promoted to general."

Kristoff blinked. "General of what, your majesty?"

"Of the army of Arendelle."

"I wasn't aware that Arendelle had an army."

"We don't, Mr. Bjorgman. Do you know why?"

"The Southern Isles disapprove," he replied. "At least, that's my understanding. I'm just an iceman."

"You were an iceman. You are now the general of my army. Is that understood?"

"Absolutely. It's just that yesterday you promised to make me royal icemaster of Arendelle." He squinted at her suspiciously. "Are you sure this isn't just a ruse to keep me away from your sister?"

Elsa rapped her gloved fingers on her desk. "Come with me," she ordered.

She led Kristoff out of the palace. The setting sun cast their shadows the length of the courtyard. They crossed the bridge. In Market Square, merchants were packing up. Carts rolled past them, wooden wheels groaning.

They followed the carts to the edge of the city. Houses of stone and wood transitioned into huts of wattle and daub with thatch roofs. She turned into the forest. Kristoff followed. The path here was unpaved. She was glad she'd changed out of her black dress.

The forest was very still. It smelled of growth and decay. Leaves fluttered high above them in the evening breeze. The light faded as they walked. Kristoff didn't try to make small talk. That pleased Elsa.

She stopped at the edge of a lake that stretched into the hazy distance. The water was as clear and flat as a mirror. "Do you know this lake?" she asked Kristoff. His shirt was dark with sweat.

"Fjellvannet. The mountain lake. We harvest ice here in the winter."

"What happens after you harvest the ice?"

"We cut it. Load it. Haul it. Deliver it."

"How?"

"By horse and by cart."

"Then each home has an icehouse, correct?"

"That's right. Underground. Insulated with straw or sawdust. That way the ice lasts longer. Food can be preserved."

"An important profession," she agreed. "Without the ice you harvest, food would spoil. Many would starve. Disease would spread. But the ice extracts a heavy cost."

Kristoff shifted uneasily. "I don't understand."

"How many lose a leg? Or an arm, like Johannes?"

"There are accidents," admitted Kristoff. "Injuries."

"Deaths?" pressed Elsa.

"It's a job with honor," Kristoff retorted. "A job worthy of respect. We understand the risks. You think you can solve a problem that we've struggled with for hundreds of years?"

"Yes," said Elsa.

She pulled her gloves off, finger by finger, and handed them to Kristoff. She thought of Anna. She was loved. She could feel the connection between them. She raised her arms.

A shiver of wind rippled the surface of the lake. The transparent water lapping at their feet turned translucent. The ice spread rapidly, cracking loudly, but the air remained warm and no snow fell. Trees whose roots were now trapped in the ice kept their leaves, and the lazy green swaying of those leaves clashed bizarrely with the ice lake's petrified stillness.

Elsa concentrated. Figures coalesced out on the ice. They resembled men, but men of unnatural size, roughly-shaped and halting in their movements. They assembled directly in front of her.

She set her icemen to their tasks. Several icemen stepped into the forest. Trees groaned and fell. Trunks began to pile up at the edge of the lake. Other icemen stripped the trunks and broke them into logs. They twisted branches and vines into makeshift ropes, then used the ropes to tie the logs together to form wooden sleds. Several more icemen walked back onto the lake and smashed out boulders of ice. They carried the boulders to shore, smoothed the boulders into blocks, and placed the blocks onto the sleds.

Elsa gestured and her icemen froze in place, as though they had never moved at all. The cacophony of their actions faded. Elsa turned to Kristoff proudly. "Well?" she asked.

Kristoff shook his head. He looked pale and upset. "You just put a lot of good men out of work."

Her smile faded. She'd expected congratulations for automating one of the most dangerous industries in Arendelle. "They will be the core of my new army."

Kristoff looked at her sharply. "You'll have to be clearer, your majesty. Do you mean your army to be made of men, or monsters?"

She looked fondly at her new creations. "They're hardly monsters," she replied. "But do you really think I would build an army out of these?" She waved a hand at the enormous, misshapen figures and frowned. They weren't bad for a first try, but next time she would do better.

"You tell me, your majesty."

Elsa sighed. Her icemen melted into the air. The lake thawed. But the blocks of ice on their wooden sleds remained.

As the lake thawed, so did Kristoff. "Elsa, talk to me. Why does Arendelle need an army?"

She climbed up onto one of the ice blocks and tucked her legs under her. While Kristoff waited, she carefully undid her hard braids, then shook her head violently into a cloud of blonde hair. The cloud settled. She rubbed her scalp and winced.

"Rapunzel's husband gave me the idea," she admitted.

Kristoff waved his hands elaborately around his head. "You mean the guy with the hair."

Elsa grinned. "Mr. Fitzherbert. He may not be as stupid as he looks."

"Hardly possible," smirked Kristoff.

Elsa snorted. She was liking this fellow more all the time. He only looked like a bumpkin. "He reminded me that great powers don't exactly like rivals."

"The Southern Isles," said Kristoff. She could see him putting the pieces together. "Hans tells his father what you did yesterday. The king freaks out, decides you're a threat and—"

"Hence the need for an army."

Kristoff whistled. "I'm starting to wish you were just trying to keep me away from Anna." His brow furrowed with thought. "But Elsa, you're thinking about this all wrong."

Elsa bristled. "How so?"

"Look at what you did yesterday. You sank half the ships in the harbor. You routed the duke's thugs. You don't need an army. You are the army."

Elsa shook her head frantically. "I can't. I can't control my power!"

"You sure seemed to just now," he said skeptically.

"For a short burst," she admitted. "In a controlled environment. With no pressure. I'm not ready for battle!"

"Then practice!" He started pacing up and down in front of the sled. She wondered if he was getting cold. The sun had set a long time ago. The sky was indigo. "Learn control!"

She tried to reassure him. "I'm working on it. Anna's helping. When I spend time with her, it's easier."

"So this is about Anna. You want to cut me off. I'm not good enough for her."

"No! I see the way she looks at you. But she loves me, too. I need her." Now she was the one pleading.

"And the ice cutters you've conscripted into your army, what do they know of war?"

"Honor. Respect." Elsa jumped down from the sled. "Those were your words, Kristoff. I need men like that. Men with enough experience to understand when a risk is worth running."

Kristoff sighed. "All right, your majesty. You win. Now what?"

She grinned. "Now, we both have homework. You build me an army and I'll work on my control."

She froze the lake again. New icemen formed. They strode towards her, grinding and cracking as they came. These icemen were better formed than the first batch. They moved more easily. And they were larger.

* * *

**Aftermath 1.6**

Market Square was deserted by the time Eugene left the palace. His steps were fast and light as he headed for the docks. He was eager to get to their ship and back to Rapunzel.

He almost missed seeing Kristoff. The burly man was trudging towards the palace. Eugene groaned and made a beeline for the shadow of the wall, hoping to avoid being seen. But he was too late. Kristoff had already spotted him.

"Not sure we've been properly introduced," said Kristoff, grinning broadly and extending a hand. "Kristoff. Princess Anna's boyfriend."

Eugene forced a smile. Kristoff's hand was rough with callouses. His own hands were soft and smooth after years of easy living. Kristoff made him feel like a courtier. He flushed with anger. Kristoff was just a manual laborer, a lout thrust into greatness because of some overhyped adventure with a sheltered princess too eager to fall in love.

He winced. What a hypocrite he was being! The gossip mongers at court had described him the same way. Not out loud, of course. They'd whispered to each other behind their sleeves, their eyes flashing and their smiles fake. He found himself feeling rather sorry for Kristoff.

"Eugene Fitzherbert. Princess Rapunzel is my wife."

Kristoff chuckled affably. "Guess we both have our hands full."

"Quite," replied Eugene curtly. He didn't try to hide his impatience. "If you'll excuse me—"

"Elsa mentioned you're leaving in the morning."

"Did she."

"Anna will be so disappointed."

Eugene was barely listening. "If she does get upset, don't argue with her."

"Why not?"

"She'll find it threatening. Just be strong. Make her feel safe."

"I should ask Bulda," Kristoff muttered. Eugene didn't know who Bulda was. He didn't care. He tried to excuse himself again, but Kristoff shook his head like a concussed puppy and interrupted him. "Wait, what did you just say?"

"Make her feel safe," Eugene repeated. He was getting frustrated. He should just walk away. But there was something about Kristoff that made him want to help the floppy-haired fool. "Be playful. Maybe distract her with a gift."

Kristoff's fuzzy eyebrows lowered. "She's a grown woman, not a child."

Eugene shrugged. "Fair enough." He reminded himself that it wasn't possible to teach anyone anything. They had to learn it for themselves.

"Although I admit I'm no love expert," said Kristoff seriously.

Eugene almost laughed out loud. "Well, naturally."

"I may have only just met Anna, but I feel like I've known her my whole life."

"That's wonderful," said Eugene carefully. He'd felt the same way about Rapunzel, the day after they'd saved each other's lives. "I get it. It feels like you guys fit, right?" Kristoff nodded. Encouraged, Eugene started monologuing. "The smallest thing she does makes you feel alive. But that energy doesn't last. It fades with time. Years from now, when she wants attention and you have other responsibilities, what will you give her?"

"Children," said Kristoff cheerfully. "Lots and lots of children."

Eugene froze.

"Although I suppose you and Rapunzel will beat us to it. Having children, I mean."

Eugene grinned mechanically. "I'm afraid I really must be going."

Kristoff slapped him on the shoulder. "Catch you later, Eugene."

"Goodbye, Kristoff."

He watched the oafish social-climbing buffoon amble off. Between Kristoff's ability to put his foot in his mouth and Elsa's uncanny power, Arendelle was wearing thin. Thank goodness they were sailing in the morning. He doubted they would ever come back.

* * *

**Aftermath 1.7**

Elsa sat and stared at the small brass swan she had taken from the mantle. It was after midnight. She was alone. The entire palace was dark and silent. Even the guards dozed at their posts.

She concentrated. A tiny ice swan materialized. It took two steps before collapsing with a sad wheeze. Its thin legs were too weak to support the weight of its body. The swan bent its long neck around to look reproachfully up at Elsa. She waved her hand. The swan melted into the air. Another failure.

Elsa rubbed her eyes. She was exhausted. Failure had followed failure for hours. She should stop. She had already practiced her icemen all evening at the lake. She should get some sleep.

She set her jaw stubbornly. Again she concentrated. This ice swan's wings didn't work properly. The phalanges crumpled. Pinion feathers crashed into the desk. The swan cried out in anguish. Elsa waved her hand. Again she was alone.

She was tired of destroying her creations. She needed a break. She stood up and stretched. She peeked through the half-open door into her bedroom. Olaf was watching the stars. She could barely believe she had created him.

The icemen at the lake were simple creatures, relatively simple to make. Their mechanics were crude. They had no thoughts of their own. They could only follow simple instructions. But Olaf could think for himself. He acted based on his own decisions. He was an individual, capable of an independent life. She couldn't remember how she'd created him. But his existence meant that it was possible.

She sat back down at her desk to try again.

Rapunzel and Eugene boarded their ship at dawn. Rapunzel went straight to their cabin and crawled back into bed. She listened sleepily as the sailors weighed anchor and set sail. A couple minutes later Eugene joined her. She snuggled up against him. The bed was cool and the heat and smell of his body was familiar and reassuring. She put her arm across his chest and fell asleep.

When she woke, he was gone. Her dreams had been peaceful. Pale morning light shone in through the porthole. The creaking and rocking of the ship was rhythmic, almost hypnotic. It should have been peaceful. Instead she felt very lonely.

Perhaps the sailors had mutinied. They had thrown Eugene into the sea and taken to the boats, leaving the ship to drift. She was doomed. The sea was empty for hundreds of miles in every direction. She was cut off from the world as utterly as though she were on the far side of the moon. She would never see Corona again. Her parents would waste away with worry. She would die on this miserable ship. She would never have children.

She sat up crossly and punched her pillow. She shouldn't have let her imagination run wild. Everything was fine. She should get up and find Eugene. But just getting out of bed seemed impossible. She shivered and huddled under the covers. She drew her knees up to her chest, surrounded by the emptiness of the open sea.

Eugene stood in the prow of the ship and watched the sun climb into a blue and cloudless sky. Behind him, the sailors went about their work. They seemed to speak an entirely different language. He couldn't understand one word out of three they said to each other. And their actions, among the profusion of ropes and sails and sheets and winches, baffled him. How could a ship, which seemed so simple, be so complicated? It made him feel ignorant and useless.

He tried to process the last few days, hoping to make sense of what had happened.

He watched the harbor of Arendelle freeze. Ice crushed the hulls of ocean-tested ships. Stout wooden beams splintered and snapped like musket-fire. Masts toppled.

He watched Rapunzel shiver uncontrollably, even under every blanket he could find. He smashed furniture into kindling, but the fire refused to catch. Ice crept across the walls, reaching towards his wife.

He watched Elsa yawn at his warnings. She seemed distracted. He didn't like the way she was looking at his wife. Elsa was too intent. Her eyes were too bright.

Elsa was the problem. She was too powerful. If she decided to go to war, she would have the weapon of winter, not to mention creatures of nightmare. He shuddered at the thought. The ice queen of Arendelle terrified him.

He knew he would have to rely more heavily on Flynn Ryder. He didn't like putting on the outlaw persona. The mask got harder to take off every time he put it on. But he didn't have a choice. The times demanded it.

Back in Arendelle, Anna had just finished her first fight with Kristoff. She felt exhilarated, almost triumphant. She'd easily cleared one of the hurdles of any new relationship. Maybe adulting wasn't so difficult, after all.

The fight had never felt too serious. Neither she nor Kristoff had spoken bitterly. They had stayed away from dangerous territory. It had ended well, with fervent kisses and eager hands.

She breathed faster, remembering those rough, firm hands on her body. She knew Kristoff had been aroused as well. His cheeks had flushed and his heartbeat had accelerated. Her power to stoke his desire pleased her.

Then she frowned petulantly. How silly of Kristoff, to think his promotion to general would make her angry! She knew he was the smartest, strongest, most capable man in Arendelle, if not the world. His new role as a leader of men pleased her.

The time commitments of his new position didn't make her angry either. She had already been planning to spend more time with her sister. She hadn't been upset in the slightest.

Men were so clueless. It was endearing and infuriating, in turns. At least Kristoff had figured out what she needed, eventually. He had taken her into his muscled arms and whispered that he would always love her. He had kissed her. The feel of his body against hers was the realest, most reassuring thing in the world. That was why she hadn't stopped him when his hands wandered a little more than she had planned on.

Then he had left. Which was fine. Really, it was great. She was glad he wasn't the sort to cling. She loved being alone. So why did she feel so lonely?

Kristoff reclined on the grass above Fjellvannet. His head was propped up on Sven's rhythmically heaving chest. Beneath them, Elsa's icemen were turning trees into cords of wood. Another dangerous industry had been automated. More fiercely independent men had been put out of work. They would have to join his army.

"Did you hear that, Sven? My army."

"You're no soldier," said Sven in his grumbly, silly voice.

"General," corrected Kristoff gently. "Heck, who am I kidding, Sven. Three days ago, I was running ice. Two days ago, I met Anna. Now her crazy sister's put me in charge."

The reindeer snorted and rolled his eyes. "Elsa almost killed you guys."

"She's the queen," Kristoff pointed out. He reached into his bag, rummaging for a carrot. "I have to do what she says."

Sven sniffed the carrot. "You're going to be lonely without me."

"Shut up and eat your carrot."

The reindeer obliged. The icemen continued working, without break or complaint.

End of Aftermath


	2. Blockade

**Blockade 2.1**

Six weeks later, Elsa was cowering in her bed.

The floorboards in the hallway creaked. Steady, deliberate footsteps grew louder as they approached, then stopped. She pulled the covers up over her head, cursing herself for not locking her door the previous night. Careless. Now she would pay the price, unless she was very lucky indeed. She braced herself, barely breathing.

"Elsaaaaaaaaaaa…"

Elsa didn't move. If she lay perfectly still, and didn't make a sound, maybe Anna would go away.

"…aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…"

Or, better yet, pass out.

"…aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…"

Her sister couldn't keep this up much longer. Could she?

"…aaaaaaaa."

Blissful silence descended. Elsa exhaled with relief and gratitude. "Thank you," she mouthed to any deities that might be listening. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

The hinges on her door groaned. A draft gusted in from the hallway. She heard a deep breath.

"Elsaaaaaaaaaaa…"

"Okay, okay, I'm up!" yelled Elsa. She threw back the covers and sat up to glare at her sister. Anna stood in the doorway, completely covered by a voluminous white sheet. An eerie glow surrounded her.

Elsa guessed that Anna was holding a lit candle under the sheet. Elsa calculated the distance. She might be able to extinguish the flame with a perfectly placed shot. She raised her hand, then stopped. Aiming a cold spell at her sister was probably a bad idea.

"Don't tell me. You're a ghost."

Anna threw back the sheet. She was, in fact, holding a candle. "Of course, silly. I'm here to haunt you for wasting precious summer hours when we could be out exploring!"

Elsa groaned and flopped back onto her soft, warm bed. It hugged her gently, like a forgiving lover, and suggested things she could do to Anna. Violent, horrible things. "It's barely dawn. Go away and come back later."

Anna tilted her head suspiciously. "How much later?"

"Thursday."

"Elsa, stop being so lame. Ooooooooo." Anna made a whistling noise.

"Rugamugasugafugahugalugadug."

"Elsa, language!" cried Anna in a shocked, overly formal voice. "I am still a young lady, and my ears are delicate."

Elsa grabbed her pillow and swung it at Anna. "What a lie. You're made of rusty nails and wooden splinters and… and… thorns."

Anna giggled. "You're such a silly." She waved the candle menacingly. "Elsa, so help me, if you don't get out of bed this minute, I will set your bed on fire."

"All right, all right," Elsa grumbled. Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she sniffed the air. Her eyes widened hopefully. "Coffee?" Anna grinned, raised one finger, then bounced out of the room.

Elsa heard a trolley cart trundling down the corridor, its wheels protesting. The cart was clearly unhappy. Perhaps it, too, wanted to be back in bed. Sensible cart.

Anna, straining, managed to maneuver the cart through the doorway. She poured two cups of coffee. Elsa swallowed hers in one go. Anna handed her the second cup. This one Elsa sipped demurely.

Slowly, life returned. Anna peered at her appraisingly. "Your hair is absolutely frightful, big sis. Impressively so. Does it require a special effort?"

Elsa jumped up and dragged a brush through her hair. Ouch! The pain woke her up even better than the coffee. She tossed on some casual clothes, then pulled on her gloves. "I must have seen a ghost."

Anna nodded complacently. "I am quite terrifying."

"Funny you should say that," said Elsa. She backed towards the door. "Because Kristoff said the exact same thing." She sprinted for the staircase before Anna could say, or throw, anything.

She took the stairs two at a time, but Anna streaked past her, sliding down the long, curving banister and jumping off just before smacking into the knob-like newel at the bottom. When had her sister learned how to do that?

She was right at Anna's heels across the courtyard of the palace, over the bridge, and through Market Square. They were side by side at the docks. The night fishermen, their boats heavy with cod and herring, watched as they flew down the wharf, the boards jumping under their feet.

Anna stretched forward. Her fingers brushed a weathered old pylon. "First!" She stuck her tongue out at Elsa, then stepped daintily down into their tiny, battered rowboat. "Enjoy rowing. Again!"

Elsa considered freezing the entire harbor again. Then she unwound the boat's ropes from the cleats. She jumped down, grabbed the oars that Anna innocently handed her, and pushed off the dock.

Ten minutes later, she glanced over her shoulder. The far shore was still barely a shadow. The water was the same blue gray color as the sky. She felt like she was steering them into an abyss. She leaned harder against the oars.

Anna lay back contentedly against the gunwales. "You're getting better at this, big sis."

Elsa eyed her sister jealously. "Spare me the flattery." If she missed the water on the next stroke and jerked one of the oars forward, she might be able to knock Anna into the water. Accidentally, of course.

"No, really. We haven't capsized once."

"Someday I'm going to beat you to the boat."

"I'm sure you will," said Anna patronizingly.

"And on that day," Elsa grunted, "I am going to laugh so hard."

"Looking forward to it."

They reached the far shore just as the sun climbed above the mountains. Elsa jumped out, pulled the boat up onto the beach, and knotted the ropes around a tree. The morning air was still cool. They climbed into the hills.

"There's a valley I've been wanting to check out," Anna mentioned after a while. "But we'll never get there at this rate. Do you think you could—"

Elsa interrupted her. "Which valley?"

Anna grinned and pointed at a gap high up in the mountains. Elsa pulled off her gloves and focused. A single stair of ice formed beneath their feet, lifting them off the ground. Balusters rose from either end of the stair and branched at waist level to form short handrails.

Anna poked at her handrail. She seemed vaguely disappointed. "Very nice," she said politely. "But if you think I'm going to climb up there, you're—"

"Hold on," said Elsa. She put her arm around Anna's waist. The earth shook. Anna clutched to Elsa, her eyes wide. A wave of snow surged up from the ground. The single stair trembled and shook as it was carried into the air. The harbor and palace of Arendelle sank away beneath them, as though some great wizard was shrinking the entire country down to the size of a dollhouse.

She propelled them up and over the lip of the valley, then dropped them down. They tumbled heads over heels into the long grass, laughing so hard they could barely breathe.

"Not bad," Anna gasped. She staggered to her feet. "Not bad at all." Elsa took her arm. They walked down into the valley. "Kristoff mentioned you've been practicing."

Elsa kicked at a stone. She didn't want to talk about her endless failures. She still hadn't been able to replicate her success with Olaf. She couldn't even create a functioning animal of ice. Her control simply wasn't fine-tuned enough. All she was capable of were mindless icemen, grotesques that were only marginal improvements on Marshmallow.

Anna looked concerned. "Elsa, what's wrong?"

She was suddenly furious. It was pathetic, having to rely on a pair of gloves. She balled them up and hurled them away as hard as she could. "Darn papa! Giving me gloves instead of lessons! Trying to keep me safe, rather than teaching me how to be strong!"

The gloves caught the air and tumbled down at her feet. She picked them up, her heart racing. She was ashamed to admit it, but being without her gloves, even for a few seconds, had filled her with fear.

"Maybe we should head back," suggested Anna softly. They hiked down from the valley in silence, without the aid of magic. Anna rowed them home.

* * *

**Blockade 2.2**

Elsa resolved to work even harder. Every night she practiced. Every night she failed. She often fell asleep at her desk. She would wake to find a blanket tucked around her shoulders. She knew Olaf was responsible.

One night the snowman timidly poked his head around the door. "Elsa, are you awake?"

Elsa nodded, grudgingly. She hadn't spoken to Olaf in weeks. His presence was a constant reproach. He was her only success but, when she looked at him, all she saw were her failures.

"Anna stopped by," he said shyly. "I told her you were sleeping."

Elsa snorted. "And that stopped her?"

"She wants you to meet her. At the gate." Olaf scratched his head. "I didn't know what that meant. Do you know what that means, Elsa?"

Elsa swung out of her chair and ran for the door.

"Elsa…" said Olaf pathetically. She skidded to a halt, desperately impatient. "Can I go out tonight? Just for a walk in the palace gardens." He twisted one foot around bashfully. "I miss the world."

Guilt choked her. She could barely stand to look at him. "Tonight's not so good," she said hoarsely.

"Tomorrow?" Olaf asked plaintively.

"Maybe," she lied. Then she was running. She forgot all about Olaf. She reached the hill and began to climb. The air was quiet, even for a deserted hillside in the middle of the night. There was something solemn about this place, almost sacred. It felt more real than anywhere else she had ever been.

She reached the top of the hill. Two massive rocks, half-buried in the earth, towered into the night sky. Anna always joked that they looked like the weathered pillars of some eldritch gate that led to the land of the dead.

The rocks were obscured by fog, but Elsa knew the words that were carved into them. Agnarr. Iduna.

Between the rocks, sitting peacefully, was Anna. She was looking out over the mountains. Elsa took a deep breath and knelt down next to her sister.

Anna's gaze never left the mountains. "Thanks for coming," she said quietly. Her face in profile looked older than Elsa remembered.

"Always," said Elsa.

"For some reason, I needed to tell you here."

"Tell me what?" asked Elsa nervously.

"I'm pregnant."

Elsa was surprised to learn that she could be very happy and very sad at the same time. "Oh, Anna! That's wonderful." She hugged her sister. "Does Kristoff know?"

Anna shook her head. "Not yet." She spread her fingers over her belly. "It just sorta happened, Elsa."

"You'll have the most fabulous wedding ever," Elsa declared. Already she was picturing her icemen, finally perfected, serving hors d'oeuvres. "I'm thinking a ten-story ice palace with champagne fountains and five hundred guests."

Anna tucked her hands under her sweater. "I've had enough of parties and crowds for awhile."

Elsa knew not to argue. "Got it. A small, intimate ceremony." Maybe she could invite Rapunzel. Then she remembered a more practical concern. "But Anna, Kristoff's family must run into the hundreds."

Anna blanched. "No trolls! Not after what they did to me."

Elsa's guilt reared up again, but this time she didn't try to apologize. She just rested her head on Anna's shoulder. Her sister's hair was so soft.

Anna stroked her belly. Elsa watched jealously. She'd only just gotten her sister back. Now Anna was going to be more distracted than ever.

As soon as they returned to the palace, Elsa crept down to the library. She found what she wanted on a low shelf in the corner. It was an enormous book, containing illustrations of every coat of arms in Europe.

She sat cross-legged on the floor and started turning pages. She and her father had gone through the book together when she was a child. She could almost smell him: his favorite dressing gown, his pipe. His long, graceful fingers pointed at the stylized animals.

"What's this one, Elsa?"

"A lion."

"That's right." Her father puffed up his chest with fake pomposity. "The king of the jungle. And this one?"

"Another lion," she said promptly.

"A leopard," her father corrected gently.

Elsa protested. "But it hasn't got any spots!"

"Maybe something scared the spots right off," said her father, tickling her. She giggled and squirmed away, her attention captivated by the bright, bold drawings.

"Is the leopard a coward, then?"

"No," said her father solemnly. "The leopard symbolizes courage. But only madmen never feel fear. Bravery, Elsa, is being afraid, and still doing what is right. The brave control their fear."

She slowly traced the outline with her finger while her father patiently waited. She imagined a leopardess fighting desperately against an enormous, shadowy enemy. Perhaps the leopardess was defending her cubs. The thought made her feel very fierce.

Her father faded away, but the fierce feeling of protectiveness remained. Anna had stood up to Hans to save her. Now, she imagined doing the same for Anna. Anna loved her. Anna believed in her. The thought filled her with confidence. She had to protect her sister. The air swirled and boiled.

A leopardess of ice shook itself into existence. She sat down on her haunches and yawned. Her fangs were icicles. Her tongue was translucent.

Elsa stared. After months of struggle and failure, she had finally succeeded.

* * *

**Blockade 2.3**

Prince Hans sat up straight. His chair had been nailed to the floor only a few feet away from a roaring fireplace. Sweat rolled down his face. He didn't wipe it off. He didn't move at all. He was too busy trying to survive.

King Westergaard of the Southern Isles stared at his youngest son with a hatred that was as intense as it was impersonal. The hatred would have shocked Hans, if he had ever seen his father look at him any other way.

The king's steward leaned down and whispered sibilantly. Hans couldn't make out the words, but his father rumbled a response. The steward stood up slowly. He sneered at Hans.

"Leave us," his father ordered. He spoke slowly, but the carefully articulated words dripped with venom. "And tell Marcus I want him." The steward bowed obsequiously as he backed towards the door. It slammed shut. The two of them were alone.

"Explain your failure."

Hans didn't blink. Technically, his father was correct. He had failed. But his biggest regret was that he hadn't killed Elsa. The woman was a menace. Worse. She was a monster. Only a monster could create monsters. She had to die.

In a few words, he explained how his wits had carried him to within a sword stroke of the crown of Arendelle.

His father cut him off. "You've made me look like a fool. A fool!" The king slammed his hand down on the arm of his throne with a meaty smack. Hans winced. The sound brought back unpleasant memories.

"I should send this new queen your head on a stick! You've brought me nothing but shame! If only you had died at birth! Runt!"

Spittle flew from the king's mouth. His chest heaved with fury. Just as he caught his breath, Magnus stepped into the firelight. Hans always forgot how quietly his eldest brother moved. How pale his blue eyes were. They were as flat as a wolf's.

"Leave the brat to me, father." Hans knew what that meant. His fingers unconsciously moved to trace old scars.

The king growled. "So you've heard."

Magnus smiled coldly. "Half of Europe is tittering over his humiliation."

"My humiliation," corrected the king sharply. "Hans is a brat, but he's still my son. Arendelle will pay for this insult with blood."

Magnus nodded coolly. "I agree, father. We need to show the other powers we can control what's ours."

The king cursed. "Control? I demand vengeance! I want that little girl crushed!"

"The Duke of Weselton was also manhandled," noted Magnus. "I'll talk to their ambassador. They may wish to use more subtle methods."

The king sneered. "Useless lemon eaters."

"Those lemon eaters control the seas," Magnus pointed out. "Besides," he added, "we need time to teach Schleswig a proper lesson before sending troops against Arendelle. I won't fight two wars at the same time."

The king frowned. "How long?"

Magnus considered. "Three years, assuming no winter campaigns."

"I'll give you two." The king ground his teeth. "By subtlety or the sword, Magnus, I want this bitch on her knees and Arendelle back in my fist! Fail me, and I'll find myself another crown prince."

Magnus nodded. "And my little brother?"

The king waved his hand dismissively. "Make use of the brat. Penance for his stupidity."

Hans kept a straight face, but secretly he was pleased. He was willing to lose a battle. Only the war mattered. He needed to finish what he'd started. He needed to kill Elsa.

* * *

**Blockade 2.4**

The church bells of Arendelle tolled midnight. Vladimir nodded to his companion. It was time.

They crept down noiselessly from the gently rocking boat. The moon still lay beneath the horizon. The deserted streets were silent.

They crossed Market Square, keeping close to the walls, invisible in the darkness. Vladimir pointed at the two guards stationed at the end of the bridge.. They were gently snoring. His companion drew a wicked-looking blade and gestured.

Vladimir frowned. Killing in combat was one thing. Murdering a man in his sleep was something else entirely. But they had their instructions. Better to do quickly what had to be done. He'd add something special to his collection when he got home. Reflexively, he touched a tiny pocket sown into the inside of his black vest.

He raised three fingers. Two fingers. One. Fist. With a single motion, he drew his knife and cut the throat of the guard on the left. His companion, despite having only one hand, did the same to the guard on the right. The dying men gurgled faintly, like air escaping from a hose.

The palace gates were open. He saw no sign of other guards. They entered the foyer. A wide staircase spiraled gently upwards, with a crystal sculpture of a leopard at its foot. Vladimir fell in love immediately. Even with the time pressure of the job, he paused to take a closer look. The artist's attention to detail was marvelous. The statue practically looked alive. If only it were smaller, he would have put it into his pocket.

He pointed towards an open door off to the left. His companion nodded. They split up and cleared the rooms on the ground floor, then regrouped back at the staircase. Vladimir stared. The statue was gone. He turned around completely, even looking up at the ceiling. Nothing.

Unease prickled the back of his neck. He considered aborting the attempt, but they'd already killed two guards. By tomorrow, the palace would be a fortress. This was their only chance.

His companion waved his hook hand impatiently. Vladimir nodded. He could puzzle later. He had to act now. He waved his companion forward. The man crept up the stairs. Vladimir followed slowly, keeping one eye on the foyer, wary of a trap. If their retreat was cut off, escaping would be—

A horrible sound, half growl and half scream, throbbed from the hallway above. His companion froze in mid-step at the top of the stairs. Another throbbing, even louder. The crystal leopard sprang out of nowhere, knocking his companion to the ground.

The man screamed in terror but he fought back, clawing at the uncanny creature with his hook hand. The leopard ignored the attack. It sank its fangs into the man's neck. Blood, black in the darkness, flooded out, coating the leopard's transparent skin. The man drooped, limp.

Vladimir sprinted up the remaining stairs. Stealth was no longer an option. The palace was about to start seething like an ant hill broken open with a spade. He had seconds to finish the job. His employer's instructions had been detailed and specific. Third door on the left. She sleeps alone.

He leapt over his companion. The monstrous leopard was still gnawing at his neck, but the man was clearly dead. He pounded down the hall and kicked open the door.

The target was already out of bed, pulling on a nightgown as she hastened towards the hallway. She reeled back as he burst into the room. He grinned in triumph. He had his knife. She was just a girl, defenseless. He would be out the window and back on the boat before anyone could stop him.

He spread out his arms in case she tried to dart past him. But the target didn't so much as move. She didn't even look afraid. Just angry. He lifted his knife. She raised her arm in a pathetic attempt to ward him off. A gust of freezing air threw him backwards.

He lowered his shoulder, but he struggled just to stay where he was. The wind was too strong. Already he could barely feel his fingers. He threw his knife in desperation. The target screamed and fell. The wind stopped. He stepped forward. His hands reached for her neck.

A heavy form barreled into him. He sprawled to the floor, expecting at any moment to feel jaws at his throat. But this body was too soft to be crystal. It smelled human. A man. Vladimir knew how to fight men.

They grappled in the darkness. His enemy was large, almost as large as he was, and ferociously strong. But Vladimir knew he was stronger. He laughed aloud when he realized his enemy had only one arm. He braced himself against the floor and flipped the man onto his stomach, pinning him. The fight was over.

The girl loomed out of the shadows. She was holding a knife. His own knife! She tried to stab him, amateurishly. He backhanded her across the room. The knife skittered across the floor and under the bed. He refocused on his real opponent. He wrapped his arm around the man's neck.

He was an inch away from victory. Where was the girl? She'd probably fled. No, the fool was just sitting there. Her nightgown was stained with blood, but not enough to kill her. He was still going to have to strangle her as soon as he finished with—

Something smashed into his back. He crumbled to the ground, limp. All of his strings had been cut. His pulse roared in his ears. Someone rolled him over onto his back. It was the man with one arm.

"Who sent you?" he shouted.

A parade of footsteps pounded up and down the hall. A hand rummaged across his body. The one-armed man was searching him. He tried to move but his muscles refused. Fingers found his secret pocket and pulled out the treasure of his collection. His beautiful white unicorn, her horn carefully painted black. He was happy to see her before he died. His heart, as always, broke at her delicate perfection. The one-armed man handed her to the girl.

She held his unicorn gently. Her fingers were red with blood. One of her fingers was missing at the knuckle. His knife must have severed it. The one-armed man reached down and shook him. He felt nothing.

"Johannes…" pleaded the girl.

"Your majesty, we need answers."

Darkness crept out of the corners of his eyes. Vladimir smiled. As if he had anything to tell them.

* * *

**Blockade 2.5**

"The man was standing over me!" Elsa yelled across her desk. "With a knife!"

Johannes didn't blink. The man was infuriating. "Get used to it, your majesty. Assassination attempts are a part of the job."

"Not in Arendelle!"

"Are you sure about that?" He made the question sound like an answer. She sank into her chair, fuming at his attitude. "Did your father show you his scars? Did he ever tell you what he did to the men who failed to kill him?"

Elsa found herself growing curious despite her best efforts. Her father had survived assassins? She could scarcely believe it. Her father had been a distant man, formal and cold. She couldn't imagine him interrogating murderers.

Johannes beckoned Kristoff over. Her general was holding a large tube of rolled up parchment. He spread it carefully across Elsa's desk. The parchment showed a schematic of the royal palace and grounds. Every room was neatly labeled.

Kristoff pointed at the map. "Step one is more guards, right outside that door."

One of Anna's maids poked her head into the room inquiringly.

Elsa looked up testily. "Give us a minute!" The maid frowned, but withdrew. Elsa turned to Kristoff. "Who do you have in mind?"

"Albin and Alvin," said Kristoff. "They're on duty starting now. Immediately."

Elsa sighed. "Brothers?"

Kristoff grinned. He stepped out of her sitting room and disappeared into the hallway. He reappeared a moment later with two large young men. They looked identical, down to their stiff ginger mustaches.

Elsa groaned but nodded. The twins saluted and returned to their posts. Her severed finger started to itch. She would have sworn it was still there. She rubbed at the stump surreptitiously. It was the ring finger of her left hand. The irony was not lost on her.

Anna's other maid burst in. She tugged boldly at Kristoff's sleeve. "She's looking for you."

"He's coming!" yelled Elsa. "I'm coming. We're all coming. Now out!"

The maid lifted her chin haughtily and sniffed. "It's not my fault," she said. She strolled out of the room looking offended.

Elsa glared at Johannes. "Go ask my new guards what use they are if they can't even protect me from my sister's maids."

Johannes ducked out into the hallway. Kristoff made a show of looking around her room. She watched him warily, wondering why he hadn't yet asked about her leopardess. She'd melted Hilde to maintain deniability, but Kristoff was smarter than he looked. Had he figured out the truth, even in the chaos of last night?

"I see you have some new friends," he said, nodding towards the ice alpine mastiffs that sat motionless on either side of the fireplace.

"Just practicing making statues," she lied nonchalantly. She'd created the enormous dogs before dawn, after the bodies of the assassins had been taken away and the palace had finally returned to an uneasy silence. They made her feel safer than a dozen of Kristoff's men. But they still needed names.

Kristoff looked at her suspiciously. She squirmed guiltily. Kristoff was about to become family. She could trust him. She decided to confess, but Kristoff's eyes had already moved on. They stopped on a small figurine of a unicorn.

"Another one of yours?" he asked curiously, reaching for it. Elsa almost snatched the unicorn away from him, hiding it in her fist.

Johannes came back into the room, grinning. "All sorted," he said briskly. "We'll also put four new guards on the bridge."

Elsa nodded absently. Personally, she wouldn't have minded not having any human guards. Her creations would protect her. But Johannes had almost died defending her. She would let him do as he wished.

Kristoff cleared his throat. "I agree security needs to be tightened, your majesty, but there's also a danger in becoming isolated." He sounded upset. "How will it look to your people if—"

They were interrupted again by one of the new guards. Elsa couldn't tell which one. "Her majesty's guest has arrived," the Al said to Johannes stiffly. "She has been seated in the chapel."

Elsa's heart started to pound. She leapt impatiently to her feet. "Let's get going," she said. "Kristoff, don't you need to change?"

"Yes, your majesty." He quickly left.

"Johannes," she asked, "what were the names of the men who died on the bridge?"

"Arvid and Sigge."

Arvid and Sigge. Their throats had been cut because of her. She decided to name her ice mastiffs after them. Her creations were far tougher than any human. No assassin would ever be able to cut their throats.

There was a clamor from the hallway. The door banged open and Anna swept through. She was wearing a very simple, very white dress.

Johannes jumped. "Your highness!"

"I'm not even here," said Anna. She glared at Elsa. "Although one might think, on one's wedding day, that the guests, few that there are, could at least try to be on time!"

"We were just coming," lied Elsa.

"So I was told," said Anna. "Several times, in fact." She walked over to Elsa and slipped a new pair of gloves into her hands. They were a darker shade of blue. "A present," she whispered, winking. Elsa's eyes cringed with a silent apology. Anna spun around.

"I'll be lucky if the parson hasn't gone home," she said fiercely. "Now move!" She clapped her hands several times quickly.

Elsa slipped off her old gloves and pulled on the new pair. The stump of her finger nestled snugly against something warm and soft. She peered down, wondering. The missing finger didn't just feel like it was still there. It looked like it was, too. She squeezed the finger gently. Wood. She made a fist. The wooden finger curled with the real ones. Very clever.

Muscles relaxed that she hadn't even noticed were tight. It was vital that her missing finger remain a secret. Not even her sister knew why.

"Reporting for duty," she said brightly. "C'mon Johannes! We have a royal wedding to attend."

* * *

**Blockade 2.6**

Rapunzel sat in the back pew of the chapel and watched as Kristoff and Anna were married. She could hardly believe she'd been invited. She'd been expecting elaborate ceremonies and at least a thousand guests. Instead, there was four, one of whom was a walking, talking snowman who was, apparently, alive. She decided to roll with that one.

Her eyes wandered for a moment, then latched onto Elsa. Why had Elsa invited her? She felt out of place. Only Johannes, that massive brute of a man, had the courtesy to look as uncomfortable as Rapunzel felt. She noticed his missing arm again and felt a surge of pity.

Her eyes were irresistibly drawn back to Elsa. The queen was practically humming with energy and excitement. Compared to Elsa, even the bride looked pale and sedate. Elsa half-turned and peeked back at her. Their eyes met. Rapunzel's cheeks grew hot.

The parson finally finished. Kristoff kissed Anna. Everyone applauded. Kristoff pulled Anna towards the door. Anna took two steps, then paused with surprise. She flung her arms around Rapunzel, clearly confused to see her.

"I didn't expect…" Anna stammered. "I mean, I can't believe you came!" Kristoff dragged her away. Anna waved goodbye. Then they were through the door and gone.

Rapunzel's smile faded. Eugene had picked her up after their wedding. He hadn't put her down again for three days. She missed his voice. His touch. But he'd refused to come to the wedding, even after she'd begged. His face, when they'd said goodbye at the dock, had been cold and hard.

She shivered, lonely. Elsa and Johannes were talking in a low, serious tone. The snowman had disappeared. Even the parson was packing up. She decided to head back to her guest room. Maybe Eugene had been right. Maybe she shouldn't have come.

Her room was quiet and empty. She sighed and removed her jewelry. She stared at the pieces. Then she took out every jewel she'd brought. Diamonds and rubies and emeralds glittered in their gold and silver settings. They were cold comfort. She didn't want them. She wanted Eugene, so she wouldn't be alone.

She should go home, before the harbors closed for the winter. She'd spend more time with her father. He was more frail every day. He barely recognized her any more.

There was a knock. It was quiet, almost shy. "One second," she cried. She took a deep breath and checked herself in the mirror before opening the door.

Elsa was standing in the corridor, her wide blue eyes full of concern. "Is everything all right? You left awfully quickly."

Rapunzel gulped. "I'm fine," she lied. There was an awkward pause. She shifted her weight uneasily from foot to foot. Elsa didn't seem in a hurry to leave. "Care to come in?"

"Thanks," said Elsa. She sounded relieved.

Rapunzel offered Elsa the only chair, then sat on the bed, tucking her feet under her. She couldn't think of a single thing to say. Elsa was wearing a new pair of gloves. The old ones had been a light blue, very plain. These were dark blue, almost black, and elaborately embroidered.

"I like your gloves," she said. "They're really pretty. I mean, elegant." She wasn't usually this tongue tied. She flushed with embarrassment.

Elsa stared down at her hands. "Thanks," she said bashfully. Her cheeks turned pink. "Can I tell you a secret, Rapunzel?"

"Of course."

Elsa gripped her chair firmly and bumped it across the floor until their knees almost touched. She tugged at each finger of her left glove before sliding it off. Rapunzel gasped. Elsa's ring finger was missing.

"Assassins," Elsa explained.

"You poor thing!" said Rapunzel. She resisted taking Elsa's hand. The scar felt very private.

Elsa grimaced. "That's not the worst of it. Ever since I lost the finger, my power is weaker."

"I think I understand," Rapunzel said quietly. She could still hear the rasp of the knife as Eugene cut off her hair. Her beautiful glowing blonde hair that healed. What was left of that healing power was in her tears. Only the tinniest of scraps remained. "I used to have power myself."

"We heard rumors," Elsa admitted. "I don't suppose you feel like sharing the whole story?"

Rapunzel shook her head firmly. "Not today, Elsa." She felt a strange thrill at saying Elsa's name. "Today should be about Anna."

Elsa stared at her. "I'm happy for my sister. But it's going to lonelier around here, now that…" She trailed off and tucked a stray strand of hair back behind her ear.

The nervous motion melted Rapunzel. "You think she's going to be… busy?" She giggled naughtily.

Elsa kept a straight face. "I expect Kristoff will keep her tied up for a while."

"I hope he doesn't keep her too long," declared Rapunzel. "Winter is coming."

Elsa's eyes flashed. "Wouldn't it be a shame if you missed the last ship back to Corona?"

"I'd have to stay until spring." She looked at Elsa coyly.

Elsa waved her hand airily. "I'm sure we could think of something fun to do."

Rapunzel's melancholy melted away. She was glad she'd come. Eugene was becoming more of a courtier every day, timid and afraid. At least Elsa knew how to enjoy life.

The next day she awoke to find that the harbor had frozen unseasonably early.

* * *

**Blockade 2.7**

For Elsa, that winter alternated between stretches of sullen discontent and bursts of wild joy. The joyful times were when she could steal away from her ever-mounting royal duties and spend time with Rapunzel.

Anna had vanished completely. Her sister had promised the baby wouldn't separate them. But it hadn't even taken a baby. The pregnancy alone had sufficed. During the rare moments they were together, Elsa found her sister distracted and bemused, as though Anna had just learned a wisdom so profound she couldn't even try to share it with Elsa.

Without Anna, Elsa found herself turning to Rapunzel. They sneaked past the human guards and sledded down the mountains. They made snow angels and sipped hot chocolate. Days passed in blinks. She wore her hair down. She left her gloves at home.

Christmas came and went. She continued to practice her magic in the evenings. Her progress came in fits and starts. Ice sparrows now flitted between the trees in the gardens. When they saw something suspicious, they told her.

She started spending afternoons in Rapunzel's room. They'd sit facing each other on the deep window ledge, chatting and watching the bustle of Market Square. One evening, she sent an Al down to buy them roasted chestnuts. He came back with two large hand fulls. The nuts were delightfully warm and firm. The room filled with the cozy sound of cracking shells.

"Have you seen Anna recently?" Rapunzel asked lightly.

Elsa shook her head. She was struggling with a stubborn shell. "Not really. She's been busy getting ready for the baby."

"She's so fat," Rapunzel bulged her cheeks like a squirrel and held her hands out over her belly. "I can't imagine what that's like."

"I suppose she feels uncomfortable."

"Funny how things work out. I came here to see Anna, but we're the ones spending time together."

"Blame Kristoff," Elsa joked. The chestnut still wouldn't open. She decided to let her fingernails grow, now that she wasn't wearing her gloves as often.

Rapunzel shook her head. "I like having you all to myself."

Elsa grinned. "Same." She tried again to peel back the shell. Its edge dug into her thumb. She winced with pain. Bright blood welled up.

Rapunzel grabbed her hand. "Oh, Elsa!"

Elsa tried to jerk her hand away, but Rapunzel didn't let go. She only managed to pull Rapunzel forward. Their foreheads knocked together. Rapunzel giggled. Her scent filled Elsa's head. She stared into Rapunzel's enormous green eyes. The longer she stared, the larger they seemed to grow. The rest of the world fell away.

She gently but firmly gripped Rapunzel's wrist. Rapunzel obediently let go.

Elsa sucked her cut thumb. Rapunzel held up her hand. Her fingers were smeared with Elsa's blood.

"You got me," she said accusingly.

Elsa gripped Rapunzel's hand again and sucked the blood off each of her fingers in turn. She did it casually, without even thinking, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. She expected Rapunzel to protest, or pull away, but Rapunzel didn't even blink. She just stared at Elsa as though they had both gone mad.

Elsa leaned forward and gently swiped her lips across Rapunzel's. Rapunzel's lips were firm yet soft. Her breath was hot. Her body was trembling as though it were cold. Elsa gently placed her fingertips behind Rapunzel's ear and ran them down the length of her jaw to rest just under her chin.

She kissed Rapunzel again, more forcefully this time. Rapunzel's lips returned the pressure.

* * *

**Blockade 2.8**

Kristoff handed Elsa the sealed letter from their ambassador to Weselton.

She tore it open. "It's official," she said bitterly. "Full trade embargo."

He nodded sympathetically. He'd already guessed as much. Spring had arrived and the harbor of Arendelle was once again open, yet the trading ships of Weselton were missing.

"Let me guess; the duke demands your resignation."

Elsa nodded irritably. "With Anna taking my place as queen. He hints he has the backing of the Southern Isles."

Kristoff whistled. He hadn't expected the timid Duke of Weselton to escalate so quickly. "He's going to want your people to know there's an option that avoids violence. I'll wager he's hired messengers to spread this news to every coffee shop in the country."

"Then it's time to deliver a message of our own," said Elsa. "When is our next ship set to sail?"

"This morning, your majesty. But given the embargo, I'll tell the captain not to bother."

"You'll do no such thing," Elsa snapped.

He tried to reason with her. "A single Weselton warship could sink a dozen of our merchant vessels."

Elsa stood up. "Not when I'm on board."

* * *

**Blockade 2.9**

Anna smiled winningly at Albin. The guard knew her; he stood aside willingly. She knocked. "Elsa?"

She pressed her ear to the door. Silence. She slowly pushed the door open and tiptoed inside. She'd used to waltz through Elsa's sitting room every morning, getting her sister out of bed. Now the room looked like a stranger's.

Two huge dogs, sculptured out of ice, flanked the fireplace. She peered at them suspiciously. Elsa had been working on her power. And there were rumors that a creature of ice had saved her life on the night of the assassins.

She walked over to the fireplace and crouched down, awkward with her pregnancy. The dogs were terrifying up close. If they were alive, they could rip out her throat in an instant. She made what she hoped was a tough face.

"Hey!"

She snapped her fingers in front of one of the dogs' eyes. It didn't even blink. "Elsa sent me here with a message!" She poked at the dog's hard snout. It was so cold her finger went numb. For a terrible moment, she remembered freezing solid as Hans' sword descended.

"Don't try to fool me," she whispered. "Elsa told me all about you guys." She held her breath, then jabbed her finger right into the dog's eye. She could feel the curve of the eyeball, the hard frame of the brow. The dog still didn't move. She clambered to her feet, relieved that her sister wasn't building a secret army of ice creatures.

She sat down heavily in her sister's chair, thankful for the rest. Just standing while pregnant took effort. The desk was overflowing with papers. She hadn't realized how much work it took to run Arendelle. Curious, she grabbed one at random.

The parchment was a letter from their ambassador in Weselton. Something about a blockade. Blah blah blah. She skipped that paragraph. Then her heart almost stopped. Weselton and the Southern Isles wanted her to be queen.

Queen Anna of Arendelle. It had a nice ring to it.

"Anna?"

She swung around, expecting to see Albin. But it was only Olaf. The snowman stood bashfully in the doorway to Elsa's bedroom.

She waved half-heartedly. "Hey, Olaf. Haven't seen you in a while."

The snowman waddled towards her. "I try to stay out of the way," he said dolefully. "Elsa prefers it." His head drooped. "I don't think she likes me any more."

"Nonsense," said Anna. She tried to replace the letter surreptitiously.

"What's that?" asked Olaf. Instantly he was cheerful again, inquisitive. He leaned over the desk, reaching for the letter with his stubby twig fingers.

She intercepted his hand. "Would you like to feel the baby?" she asked, hoping to distract him. "Sometimes he kicks."

"Oh!" He sounded awed. His twig fingers poked roughly at her belly. She tensed, trying not to pull away. "You made a baby?"

"Our child," she said proudly, "me and Kristoff."

If Elsa abdicated, their child would become crown prince. She pictured her son taking the throne. He was as tall as his father and beautifully dressed. Everyone in the kingdom looked up at him with adoration.

"Elsa made me," Olaf said reverently. "Does that make me her child?"

He looked absurdly hopeful. She stifled a giggle. "I'm afraid not," she said. "Snowmen aren't people." She made a sad face.

"Why aren't I people?" asked Olaf.

She slipped the letter out of sight. "Ask Elsa, when she gets back."

* * *

**Blockade 2.10**

Elsa had never been this far out to sea. She scanned the hazy ring of the horizon. They'd been sailing south for hours, and still no sign of a Weselton warship. But they were about to enter the fast moving ocean currents. If the duke's ships were waiting anywhere, it would be there.

She studied the skies. They gazed back innocently, clear and blue. She pictured them boiling with thunderclouds, the calm winds growing furious, the peaceful waves climbing into white-tipped mountains.

She imagined her parents clawing their way back to the surface for a single gasp, then sinking again, their muscles finally exhausted. They must have known they were about to die in agony. Had they seen each other before they drowned?

She rubbed fretfully at the stump of her finger. If her control over her magic failed, the Weselton warship would sink them. She would die with the knowledge that she had caused the deaths of every sailor on board.

The lives of her people were worth more than her throne. She would abdicate. There would be peace. She needed to order a return to harbor. She needed to find the captain. She spun around, almost falling in her haste.

From the crow's nest, a voice: "There!"

She looked up, then followed the boy's finger towards the horizon. A single warship emerged from the haze, bearing down on them. She was too late. She would be forced to fight.

Kristoff came up beside her. They watched the warship approach. At this distance, it still looked like a toy. "Nervous?" he asked casually.

She nodded. Her whole body was tight with anticipation. She could feel her heart accelerating. "Distract me, Kristoff. Tell me some good news."

He scratched his head. "Well, as soon as you break this blockade, I promise to get that spoiled brat out of your hair."

She held onto the rail to steady herself. "You mean the princess of Corona?"

"Who else? Anna's little friend." His tone was dismissive.

Elsa touched her lips. Those lips had kissed Rapunzel's neck. They'd nuzzled on the pulse point at her throat.

The approaching warship grew larger. Beneath the massive white scales of its sails she could make out a row of ominous black dots.

Cannon.

Kristoff shifted uneasily. "We'll be in range in a minute or two, your majesty."

She remembered the sounds Rapunzel had made. She remembered Rapunzel's voice repeating a single word. "Elsa." She smiled. Rapunzel loved her. The certainty made everything else simple. She pulled off her gloves.

Kristoff coughed apologetically. "We want to send a message, not a declaration of war."

She created a single icicle underwater, as long as the ship and as thick as a man. It pierced the warship's hull and immediately melted. Only the stab wound remained. The Weselton sailors would have to scramble to wedge the leak shut before the ship sank. A difficult task, but doable. She brushed her hands complacently.

"Any time, now," said Kristoff tersely.

She winced, realizing her mistake. She'd crippled the warship so efficiently the Weselton sailors might blame a reef. That would defeat the purpose of her warning. The duke had to know she was responsible. He needed to be taught respect.

She formed a hoop of ice. It was as wide as the warship but thinner than wire. The top curve of the hoop popped out of the water directly in front of the warship. The warship sailed right into it. Ice sliced through wood. The three masts shuttered, groaned, then collapsed.

Chaos.

Sails crumpled, spilling across the decks. One mast tumbled into the sea. Men scrambled like ants. Screams echoed across the water.

"That's torn it," said Kristoff. "Should we wait around and see if they need rescuing?"

She pulled on her gloves. "I'm sure the other Weselton ships will provide whatever assistance is required."

They tacked back towards Arendelle. Elsa wondered if her display would convince the duke to stand down. Some part of her hoped it would not. Some part of her hoped he would escalate instead.

* * *

**Blockade 2.11**

"What, Kris, darling? You'll have to speak up."

Anna turned away from her husband and leaned over the crib. Her baby was screaming. He stopped for a moment at the sight of her face, then screamed again. Her baby was hungry. A wave of devotion swept over her and carried everything else away. She unbuttoned her shirt and carefully picked him up. She placed him at her breast. Adam quieted down immediately and began to nurse.

Adam. She still couldn't think of him as Adam. He was just her baby.

In the corner of her bedroom, the royal wet nurse sulked. Well, that was just too bad. Adam was her baby. Feeding him from her own body gave her a sense of connection and fulfillment she hadn't believed possible, not until she'd experienced it herself.

Kristoff starting talking again. She barely heard him, even though her baby had stopped crying. She gazed down adoringly at her baby's tiny face. Adam suckled and stared up at her with equal fervor. She cooed at him, smiling gently.

Kristoff continued to talk. She continued to ignore him. There was nothing he could possibly say that was as important as what she and her baby were doing. She was amused that he didn't understand this. She felt a fleeting pang of sympathy for the ignorance of men.

Adam stopped nursing. He yawned mightily. Anna started to burp him and found herself, for the first time, listening to Kristoff. There was something wrong with her husband's voice.

"We thought the duke had backed down. Then, two days ago, a merchant vessel sailed from Schleswig, carrying goods bound for Arendelle." Her husband cleared his throat. "Weselton sank the ship. All hands went down."

"How awful," said Anna mechanically. The horror seemed very far away.

"Elsa's furious."

She nodded absently and continued to gently pat her baby on his back. She wasn't worried. Who knew better than her how strong Elsa was? Her sister could deal with Weselton all by herself. And that meant Kristoff would be able to stop playing at soldiers with his old buddies from the ice business. He would be home more, where it was safe.

"Elsa and I, we're going back out there."

"What!" Her attention focused in a heartbeat. Her cheeks flushed red with anger. "Are you kidding me?"

Her husband put his hands up defensively. "I know it's not ideal—"

"Not ideal!" She started crying.

"Not the waterworks," Kristoff pleaded. He stroked her hair clumsily. "That's not fair."

She pulled away from her husband and handed her baby to the wet nurse, who carried him out of their bedroom. The separation made her cry even harder. She was furious. Kristoff no longer had the right to risk his life. Not anymore. His life belonged to them. To her and to Adam.

"You don't love me anymore."

Kristoff protested. "Of course I do."

"If you love me, you won't go. You won't leave us."

"It's my duty." The obstinacy in his voice infuriated her. She refused to look at him. Instead she started fiddling with one of Elsa's sculptures, an ice swan her sister had left on the mantle. It was colder than she'd expected. "To the queen. To Arendelle."

She whirled on him, pointing angrily towards the nursery. "Your duty is to your son!" She started to hiccup through her tears. "I get (hic) upset (hic) when the people who say they love me (hic) leave (hic) to go to sea."

He knelt down and reached for her. "I'm an orphan, too, Anna."

She froze, shocked at his self-centered attitude. He didn't care that she needed him. His protestations of love were hollow. He only cared about himself.

"Go," she said, pulling away. "I can't stop you."

Kristoff slowly stood. She couldn't believe it! Was he actually going to leave? Absurd. He knew that when she told him to go, she meant that he had to stay. Bitterly she remembered their first fight. They had sparred with paper swords. This time they were using steel.

"I'm protecting you by going," he argued. His tone was feeble and pathetic. It made her nauseous. "You. Adam. All of Arendelle."

"How noble of you to abandon your family!"

He went. He actually went! She stamped her foot against the floor. He should have agreed with her. He should have kissed her and told her how much he loved her. He should have made her feel more important to him than anything else in the whole world. He had left, instead.

He didn't love her. She trembled at the thought. How could she trust a man who didn't love her?

* * *

**Blockade 2.12**

Rapunzel couldn't stop fidgeting. Where was Elsa? She hadn't seen the queen for days. She was sick of being cooped up in the palace. She felt like a prisoner. The walls were beginning to press in on her. How much more isolation could she take, before her nightmares returned?

Her fear sent her pacing back and forth across her room. Outside, the sinking sun bathed Arendelle in golden light. The snow had melted. Everywhere new life was awakening. The air vibrated with warmth and activity.

"Enough is enough," she muttered. She dashed down the palace steps before she could change her mind, not pausing even to grab a jacket. She could smell spring outside, soft and pungent, so different from the cold, hard sterility of the palace halls.

She pulled open a side door and blinked, temporarily blinded by the light. An enormous hand grabbed her wrist. Johannes glared down at her.

"Rapunzel! Where do you think you're going at this hour?" She cursed silently. Damn the man. She tried to twist away, but Johannes was as strong as a bear and almost as large. His rough hand swallowed her wrist. His callouses rubbed harshly across her delicate skin.

She lashed out, furious. "None of your business, you brute! Now take your hands off me!"

He let go of her wrist. "Her majesty asked me to keep an eye on you."

His defensiveness spurred her anger. "Elsa's not my mother. I can do what I want!"

Johannes studied her skeptically. "The sun's setting," he said. "And you're barely dressed. At least allow me to accompany you."

"Haven't you anything better to do?" Her eyes lingered on his missing arm. "Or is annoying me all you're capable of?"

Johannes' face, already pink, flushed purple. His weight shifted. She felt a flash of fear. He was so large. His muscles strained against his shirt. His legs were gnarled oak trunks. Her eyes widened and she shrank back.

But he only said: "As you wish."

She bolted, wondering if she'd wounded his pride. She laughed hollowly, trying to assuage the rumblings of her guilt. Brutes like Johannes didn't have feelings to hurt.

She watching Arendelle pack up for the night. In the process, she wandered further and further from the castle. The light drained out of the sky faster than she'd expected. The air cooled. She rubbed her bare arms. To return to the palace now would be an admission of defeat. She pushed on defiantly.

She was soon in unknown territory. The cobblestone street dwindled into a dirt road. The homes here were smaller and poorly constructed. The shrubs and trees weren't trimmed. Even the grass was wilder, overgrown. Villagers, hurrying past, gave her strange looks. She felt out of place with her fine clothes. Mud stained her delicate shoes.

The sun dipped behind a mountain. The landscape darkened. Bright colors faded to blues and grays. For the first time she heard the creak of the trees. Even her steps sounded louder. She shivered and glanced over her shoulder. The palace looked tiny and impossibly distant. Perhaps she should head back.

"Need some help, miss?"

She jumped, startled. She hadn't noticed the slender man in the dim light. He was leaning against one of the smaller cottages. Its wattle and daub walls were crumbling. Grass and weeds grew through rotted floorboards. It was clearly abandoned.

"Perhaps a little," she admitted, looking hungrily at the warm coat the man was wearing. "I didn't realize how far I'd come."

His eyes looked her up and down. "Not from around here, are you?"

"Not exactly." She rubbed her arms vigorously, too proud to ask him directly for the coat.

He whistled apologetically. "What terrible manners I have!" He slipped off the coat and approached her cautiously, holding the coat out as though he were a matador addressing a bull. She reached for it gladly, but he sidestepped her and draped the coat over her shoulders. His hands lingered.

"You're very kind," she said nervously. The dirt road was deserted in both directions. It seemed to shrink as the day's last light drained out of the still air. His hands were heavy on her shoulders.

He steered her towards the cottage. "Come inside and warm yourself properly." She tried to shrug him off and failed. He raised a hand and pushed the door open. They were on the threshold. All she could see inside the cottage was darkness.

She panicked. Pivoting, she drove her elbow into his stomach. He grunted, folded over, and let go. She ran. A fist knocked her down. She hit the ground hard. Pain tore through her right leg. She gasped. Another man, a different man, loomed over her. He was much larger than the first. His teeth flashed in the twilight.

She tried to push herself away, but her soft shoes slipped on the loose dirt. Her right ankle hurt so much she almost started to cry. She stopped herself in time. She mustn't cry. The slender man came up next to his larger friend. His eyes frightened her. Running was out of the question. She wondered if she could even stand.

"I'll scream," she warned him, trying to buy herself time. She couldn't believe this was happening. She had to be asleep. This was just a nightmare, like the darkness of Gothel's prison.

The slender man crouched down and gripped her right shoe. He twisted it. She screamed.

"Like that?" he asked curiously. She panted with pain. Sweat ran down her forehead. He motioned to the larger man. "Get her inside."

The larger man reached for her. She raised one arm in a futile attempt to ward him off. The man grinned, then seemed to throw himself onto the ground next to her. Standing behind him was Johannes.

The slender man punched Johannes. Johannes barely budged. With his one arm he swatted the man away. Then he lifted the larger man and threw him into one of the cottage's wooden beams. The beam cracked. The man crumpled.

The slender man sat up. Johannes kicked him in the head. The man sprawled back into the dirt. Johannes kicked him in the head again.

Rapunzel touched her ankle and winced. She turned herself over until she was kneeling, then carefully stood up on her left leg. She hopped precariously, wobbled, and lost her balance. She tumbled back to the ground.

She cried out in pain. "Johannes!"

Johannes kicked the slender man again, then knelt down beside her. He tucked his one arm under her knees and braced her head against his massive chest. Then he stood up as though she weighed no more than a kitten. She threw her right arm around his neck, pressed her face into his chest, and whimpered with relief.

She kept her eyes closed all the way back to the palace. The world shrank to the sound of Johannes' steady steps and the reassuring strength of his body. He smelled of sweat and sawdust. Before she knew it, they were back in her quarters.

He gently laid her down on her bed. She propped herself up on her elbows and watched as he fumbled with the laces of her shoes. His thick, rough fingers were more nimble than she'd expected, but it was a difficult job for one hand. It took him a long time. She didn't try to help. She let him struggle. He jarred her ankle only once and she bit her lip rather than cry out.

Finally, he finished. Cool air brushed her toes. He tested her right ankle and grunted, pleased. "Twisted. Not broken. I'll send someone up to wrap it." He turned to leave. She was suddenly frantic to keep him there. She didn't want to be alone.

"Johannes?" she whispered. He stopped halfway out the door, almost lost in the shadows of the hallway. "Thanks for not scolding me."

He didn't say anything. He didn't even look at her. She didn't understand him. He'd thrown her attacker like a bundle of firewood. He'd cradled her body as though protecting something of great value. She realized she was desperate for his approval. "What do you think of me?"

"I feel sorry for you."

He left. The door rattled in its frame. She stared into the middle distance. Rage filled her. She wanted to beat the dumb brute to death with her bare hands. She wanted him to kneel before her. She would twist his thick neck until his face turned blue. But she wasn't strong enough. She cursed her weakness. She couldn't even stand. She'd never felt so helpless. She'd never felt so alone.

She wondered what Eugene was doing. Probably talking to his tailor. This was all his fault. He wasn't even enough of a man to give her a baby.

She pulled her knees up to her chin, fetal with loneliness. "Oh, Elsa," she whispered plaintively. She needed to see those blue eyes. She needed to feel Elsa's hands on her body. Why had Elsa abandoned her?

* * *

**Blockade 2.13**

Kristoff followed the overgrown path through the forest and down to the small, secluded beach. He'd arrived early on purpose, but Elsa was already there, sitting on a log, looking out onto the fjord. A large pile of sawdust stood next to her. He supposed her ice creatures had made. He looked around uneasily, but there was no sign of them.

He coughed loudly. Elsa turned and smiled, but she didn't say a word. The air turned white. A blizzard of snow carried the sawdust into the air, creating a small brown tornado. The tornado swirled into a small, dull brown boat made of sawdust and ice.

Kristoff stepped into the pykrete boat gingerly, expecting it to immediately sink. The boat had no sail, no oars. There was no identifiable bow or stern. The boat was just a floating box, its sides no more than four or five feet above the surface of the water. A minor squall would sink them. How could Elsa possibly confront the blockading Weselton warships in this?

Elsa jumped in next to him and waved her hand. The boat accelerated into the fjord. Soon they were going faster than any ship Kristoff had ever known. But how? All he could see was an enormous bloom of ice growing out from under the boat and back the way they'd come.

In minutes, they were already out into open ocean. A pole of ice formed underwater. It pointed directly forwards. Kristoff couldn't see the end of it. He got the sense it stretched out all the way to the horizon, like the long, bony finger of a vengeful ghost.

The pole of ice slowly began to sweep clockwise, like the minute hand of the largest clock in the world. Two o'clock. Six o'clock. Ten o'—. The pole froze in place. Elsa smiled grimly. The pole melted away. The boat turned slightly to port and accelerated again.

The boat entered deep water. An enormous wave of ice formed in front of the boat and swept away from them. The ice rapidly cooled the air. A curtain of fog billowed up from the sea. Kristoff could barely see his hand in front of his face.

He scanned the horizon, tense with anticipation. The Weselton ship would look like a shadow. There! A slightly darker patch rushed rapidly towards them. He gripped Elsa's shoulder and pointed. The tiny pykrete boat slowed. Less than a hundred yards away, the crow's nest of the warship swayed above the fog.

Kristoff held his breath. There was only silence and the faint lapping of the waves against the boat. Then a massive grinding sound, as though a tornado was tearing an oak tree to splinters. The crow's nest jerked violently. It tumbled into the fog and out of sight. He heard shouting. Shattered fragments of wood shot out of the fog, pinging into their boat and splashing into the sea. He stepped in front of Elsa and raised an arm to shield his face.

The grinding crescendoed. The warship, invisible in the fog, groaned in mortal agony, as though it were being torn in two. The noise stopped completely. His ears rang with a ghastly silence. Then he heard faint splashes and muffled screams.

The tiny pykrete boat silently accelerated away.

"What about the sailors?!" he bellowed.

"One down," said Elsa calmly. Kristoff stared at her. Her face was flushed. She was almost glowing. He wondered if he was going to be sick.

* * *

**Blockade 2.14**

Eugene Fitzherbert studied his guest's face and demeanor. He couldn't tell if the man was joking. He prayed that he was. "Can you repeat that?"

"Seven ships of the line," said Magnus Westergaard idly. He seemed distracted by his examination of the cork paneling that lined the room. "A thousand sailors, give or take."

Eugene blanched. "A thousand dead? Magnus, are you sure?"

"Quite sure." The crown prince didn't sound upset. "The duke lost more than a tenth of his fleet."

Eugene clenched his fists, his knuckles white with rage. "That murdering little bitch!"

Magnus rapped his knuckles against the spongy cork paneling. "Ingenious. You say it totally prevents eavesdropping?"

Eugene started to pace. He'd been a naive fool, to trust the duke's promise that a blockade would convince Elsa to abdicate! But at least Elsa had shown herself for the monster she was. She had to be destroyed. Weselton would have to agree to a full invasion.

Magnus stifled a yawn. "I'm afraid I have some more bad news. The duke's folded. Out of the game. He's negotiated a separate peace with Arendelle."

Eugene whirled on his guest. "Impossible!"

Magnus snorted. "The little toupee told me so himself."

Eugene stared at him. "Don't tell me you're thinking about doing the same."

"Of course not."

"Then we're agreed," Eugene said. "It has to be war this time, real war!"

"We need another year to arm and mobilize. If you want the thing done properly."

"Damn it, Magnus, that's not good enough! We need to hit her now, before—"

A discrete cough interrupted him. Eugene glared at the third person in the room. The Earl of Morner had been sitting in the corner the entire time. He hadn't said a word. Eugene had almost forgotten he was there.

"My apologies, Mr. Fitzherbert," the earl said respectfully. "If the Southern Isles require a year, we should be patient. In the meantime, our best weapon is subtlety."

Eugene fidgeted slightly. The earl always made him uneasy. The old man's reputation was legendary. "Explain yourself."

"The queen has knocked one of our knights off the board," the earl explained. "She feels content. Complacent. Let's encourage that complacency. Extend the olive branch to buy time. And then…" The earl brushed an imaginary piece of lint off his knee.

Later that night, long after Magnus had left, Eugene and the earl met again in the same cork-paneled room. For a long time, neither spoke. Eugene didn't put it past the old man to sit there all night. He decided to lose gracefully. "Your plan's a good one. But it means another year of delay."

"Patience, Mr. Fitzherbert," replied the earl calmly. "We've tried to kill Queen Elsa twice now, and twice we've failed."

"If only those assassins had succeeded," said Eugene ruefully.

"I sent the best men in Corona."

"And yet Elsa survived."

"Yes," agreed the earl. "Her power grows. That is why patience is required. No more acting in haste. No more half-baked plans. The third time we try to kill her, we must be certain of success."

* * *

**Blockade 2.15**

It was past midnight before Adam fell asleep. Anna tiptoed out of the nursery and padded through the empty corridors of the palace back to her bedroom, bone tired.

Kristoff was sitting on her bed. His face, usually so ruddy, was gray. His clothes were ripped, dripping wet. Half-dried blood oozed through his hair and down his face. He looked like an injured ghost. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so she decided to be very angry.

"Care to explain yourself?" she asked icily. Part of her was afraid he was going to tell her everything. She didn't want to know. The blood frightened her.

He just gazed up at her. His eyes were full of horror and exhaustion. He stretched out his hand, asking her to come to him. Not likely! She pushed down her sympathy and crossed her arms.

"You were gone for three days, Kristoff! I thought you were dead!"

"There were times I wished I was."

She almost slapped him. He pulled the ruined shirt off over his head. His fingers shook. She could see the ropes of his muscles tighten and stretch under his pale skin. His strong, familiar odor reached her even across the room. It reminded her of early mornings, furtive movements under the blankets. A warm rush of desire pooled in her belly.

"We were on the sea the entire time."

She went to the bathroom and fetched a towel. He ignored it. Instead, he wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her down into his lap.

"Get off me, you beast!" She pushed against him, but not very hard. Her fingers itched to tend to the tangled mop of his damp hair.

"I thought I'd never see you again. Or Adam."

"But you're here now," she said promptly. "You won." Somehow, she had total faith in their victory.

"Is that what we did?" He laughed hollowly. "Yes, I suppose we won."

Her hand was moving down his bare chest of its own accord. The traitor! It was a very nice chest, but his skin was so cold. And his eyes, too. They made her nervous. She pressed her lips against his ear.

"I was so worried," she breathed. Her hand really did have a mind of its own. She allowed it to move further south. He inhaled sharply. "You made me angry, when you left. Why did you make me angry? Isn't this nicer?"

He gripped her so fiercely she gasped. "Oh, Anna."

"I missed you," she whispered urgently.

Kristoff kissed her hard and bit her lip. Then he tilted her chin up with a finger. His eyes softened. They were the eyes she remembered. "Are you sure?" he asked. He caressed her belly. "So soon?"

She nodded. She could feel his excitement. It made her excited as well. "My big, strong, conquering hero."

Afterwards, he held her close and rubbed small circles on her shoulder. "It's good to be back."

"Did you miss me?" she asked. She felt as though she was asking him to dance.

"Of course."

"Am I beautiful?"

"Very."

"Even like this? I'm still all fat and gross."

He kissed her shoulder. "Especially like this."

"Do you love me, Kris?"

"You know I do."

"Say it, Kris. Tell me you love me."

"I love you, Anna."

She smiled contentedly and pressed back against him. He was so solid. So real. His strength made her feel safe. "I'm just glad your little vacations with Elsa are over," she said drowsily. "Now I have you all to myself."

* * *

**Blockade 2.16**

Kristoff grimaced. "Are you sure, your majesty?"

"Quite sure," Elsa said. "I wish to speak with Mr. Fitzherbert alone." She started to close the library door in his face. Kristoff wrinkled his nose at her and was rewarded with a small smile.

The door closed. Kristoff reluctantly joined the other diplomat from Corona. He recognized him from Elsa's description: the Earl of Morner. The earl was examining one of Elsa's sculptures, an ice fox caught mid-lope. "Brilliant work," he muttered.

The earl seemed so enthralled that Kristoff found himself studying the fox as well. Something about the sculpture made him uneasy, as though at any moment that raised paw would descend and the fox would jump down from the table and run out the door. But this sculpture wasn't alive. He trusted Elsa. She wouldn't secretly create living creatures and position them through the palace. Not without telling him.

The earl glanced over his shoulder. He saw Kristoff and started slightly. He straightened up and, at the same time, adjusted a small pin in his lapel. The pin looked like a coat of arms: a red cross on a blue shield underneath a crown. His fingers trembled slightly, but they moved nimbly. Kristoff wondered if it was a nervous tic. The earl was old and probably anxious about being so far from home. He tried to apologize.

"Sorry if I startled you."

The earl smiled warmly. "Not at all. Mr. Bjorgman, isn't it? Her majesty mentioned you recently had a child."

"A son," said Kristoff warmly. "Adam."

"How wonderful," sighed the earl. "Now if only your queen could be blessed in the same way."

"And why is that?"

"Kings - and queens - need to have children. It alleviates concerns around succession."

Kristoff thought about Rapunzel. The heir to the throne of Corona was as childless as Elsa. "Don't throw stones," he replied wryly. "You have the same problem."

The earl laughed merrily. "You're absolutely right." He lowered his voice. "Between you, me, and this fox, Mr. Bjorgman, the princess's lack of issue is occasionally mentioned at court."

Kristoff found himself feeling sorry for Eugene, even if the man was too likable. "Occasionally?"

The earl's only answer was more laughter.

Kristoff was confused by his behavior. After the destruction Elsa had wrought, he'd expected coldness, not warmth. But perhaps the deaths of those sailors hadn't been for nothing. Weselton had already signed a peace treaty. Maybe Eugene was right; maybe Corona could help convince the Southern Isles to do the same.

* * *

**Blockade 2.17**

Rapunzel sat on the edge of her mattress. The sheets were gone, the blankets, even the pillowcases. The room had been stripped bare. Everything had been packed away. Servants had already carried her trunks down to the ship. She should have been on board as well. Instead, she was waiting for her husband.

The room looked larger empty. For months, it had seemed small and stuffy, like a cell. Now its white walls stretched away into the distance. She felt as though the room was standing with its back to her. Its silence told her in a stern voice that it was time to go home.

She didn't want to go home. She didn't want to helplessly watch as her parents' health grew worse. She didn't want to listen to the snickers and scheming of the courtiers.

She missed Elsa already. They had never physically consummated their relationship. She couldn't remember why. Regret gnawed at her. They should have taken advantage of the time they'd had.

Her husband came in so quietly she didn't notice. He didn't seem surprised to find her waiting. "It's all arranged," he said. She assumed he was talking politics. As though she cared about his dull meetings.

"Good for you," she said sarcastically. She crossed her arms. "I'm surprised you bothered to come get me yourself. I forget what happens next. Do I roll over? Or sit up and beg?"

Her husband pinched the bridge of his nose. "Can we please not do this, Punz?" His pleading tone disgusted her. "I'm tired. My mouth hurts from smiling at the ice queen."

She pictured him simpering and groveling. "Poor dear," she retorted. "Did Elsa make you lick her boots?"

"I'm trying to avoid a war! Meanwhile, you've been kicking your heels all winter."

"It's not my fault the weather turned before I could sail home!"

His eyes narrowed. "Nice try, Rapunzel. What really kept you here?"

She cackled triumphantly. "You're jealous!" The thought half-satisfied, half-infuriated her. "Are you going to go caveman? Throw me over your shoulder?" She almost wished he would.

"Do you know what you've put me through? Your parents?"

She sighed. "When did you become so boring? You're boring, Eugene. Boring!"

"Rapunzel!" Her husband smacked his hand against the windowsill. "Stop acting like a child!"

"Then stop scolding me! What are you, my mother?"

"Your mother's been beside herself! You know her heart isn't strong. And your father asks every night where you are!"

She refused to feel guilty. She'd done nothing wrong. "Are you blaming me for visiting my pregnant friend? What is wrong with you!"

He just stood there. Her frustration swelled. She wanted him to grab her and kiss her and tell her how much he'd missed her. But he didn't.

She decided to try a different angle. "What were you up to, while I was gone? I've seen how the ladies at court look at you. I bet you were glad when I left. Glad! How long did you wait?" For a moment, she almost believed herself. She choked back a sob. She mustn't cry.

Her husband's eyes narrowed. His face shifted slightly and his voice dropped into the cold arrogance of Flynn Rider. He told her about the adulterous affairs he'd had over the winter. How he had seduced women she'd known for years. The way he had touched them. The sounds they had made.

She found herself getting jealous. For a moment, her body responded with excitement and anticipation. Then she drooped with disappointment. Even his lies were predictable. She trusted her husband, that was the problem. He was a faithful man. Everything he did was proper, from his manicured nails to his willingness to lie to her when she wanted him to.

She couldn't help contrasting him with Johannes. Compared to her husband, the one-armed man was a brute. His hand was calloused. His body was scarred. He'd beaten her attacker to death.

Her husband grasped her arm and pulled her towards the door. He was back to being Eugene. "It's time to go," he said resolutely. Winter had given her new eyes. She could see right through him. He wasn't real. His strength was just a posture. His certainty was just a pose.

She glared at him defiantly. "You're running away! You're scared of her. Admit it. You're scared of Elsa!"

He let go. She stumbled and nearly fell. "You're right," he growled. "I am scared of her. Because I'm sane. Now move or I really will throw you over my shoulder."

She let him lead her through the palace. The courtyard was deserted. The gray skies were spitting rain. She pulled him to a halt, bursting with the need to see Elsa one last time.

"I have to say goodbye to Anna," she told him earnestly. "I'll only be a moment." She flew back to the palace, pounded up the familiar staircase, and burst into Elsa's sitting room.

Elsa was sitting at her desk talking to Johannes. She glanced up and frowned. Rapunzel's heart raced. Elsa's eyes were so blue. They made her want to shout mad things. They made her want to whisper crazy ideas. But she couldn't, not with Johannes staring at her. She extended her hand.

"Goodbye, your majesty. My warmest thanks for your hospitality." She tucked her middle finger into her palm just as their hands met. Elsa's eyes widened.

Eugene was waiting right where she'd left him. She shook her head as she took his arm. Her voice wobbled with tears. "I couldn't do it, Gene. I couldn't."

"Why not?"

"I saw her through the doorway. She was holding her baby. She looked so happy, Gene. I just…" She put on her saddest face, the one that always worked.

"Don't worry, Punz," he said sympathetically. "Everything's going to be all right."

Her lower lip quivered. "Promise?"

"I promise."

She let him guide her through the slips and down to the bed in their cabin. She asked him to be gentle. She lay there and stared at the ceiling. It was tedious, just being with him.

They reached Corona three days later. The Earl of Morner had sailed ahead. He was waiting for them on the dock. His face was grim. He had news, he said, that wouldn't wait. Her mother had been dead for two days.

End of Blockade


	3. Diplomacy

**Diplomacy 3.1**

Elsa squinted down at the map that Kristoff, after much cajoling, had drawn for her. Back in her sitting room, the route had looked straightforward. Now that she was in the forest, Kristoff's directions seemed deliberately obscure. It was difficult to see far in the gloom and all the rocks looked the same.

She refused to use her power to cheat. She felt virtuous in her restraint, even though she knew that Kristoff's family would be less than pleased if she rampaged her way into their valley on the back of some ice behemoth.

She reminded herself that being diplomatic was good practice. Formal negotiations with the Southern Isles began in a week. She pictured all thirteen of King Westergaard's sons yelling at her simultaneously, a grotesque chorus line of white eyes and red mouths, and felt a flash of fear.

A branch snapped under her boot. She jumped. The Weselton ships had sounded like that as they splintered and sank. The diplomats would probably try to blame her for the sailors' deaths. She rubbed angrily at the stump of her missing finger. Weselton was to blame. Their blockade of Arendelle had been a declaration of war. She had sunk the duke's ships, yes, but by killing the few she had saved the many. The negotiations proved she had done the right thing. She had prevented a real war.

A real war! An endless cycle of spring invasions and summer stalemates. Every year a new crop of soldiers would have been planted as boys and cut down as men. The rivers of Arendelle would have clotted with blood. She'd drowned a few sailors, yes, but they had died in the service of the greater good. She deserved thanks, not opprobrium.

She crested the last hill. Beneath her, half-hidden in fog and steam, a rock-strewn valley faded into the distance. Here the Grand Pabbie had smashed her childhood into a thousand pieces. She pushed the thought away. She had come for answers, not revenge.

She half-walked, half-slid down the steep incline, steadying herself on the stone outcroppings. They were hot to the touch. Kristoff had warned her that the valley lay on top of a dormant volcano. She frowned. The cold didn't bother her. Heat was another matter.

Rocks lay scattered across the floor of the valley. They looked like normal rocks. Some were cracked. Others had moss growing on them. But Kristoff's instructions had been clear. She took a deep breath.

"Queen Elsa of Arendelle requests an audience with the Grand Pabbie!"

Nothing happened. She felt like a fool. Then the ground began to rumble. Many of the larger rocks rolled together into a scrum, paused, as though conferring, then quickly rolled away and out of sight. She spun around, trying to see where they went, but they seemed to vanish behind one another, or into tiny cracks, or into shadows that remained empty. By the time she stopped spinning, the floor of the valley was as bare as the head of the Duke of Weselton.

A single rock rolled towards her out of the mist and uncurled into a troll. He had a bulbous nose and large ears. He looked tired and a little sad, as though he felt the weight of his self-importance. She remembered his hands touching Anna's face, his ponderous warnings. It had been fourteen years since they last met. She disliked him instantly.

"Ah, Queen Elsa." The rock troll's voice was deep and breathy. "You have a question for me."

His cold reading annoyed her. Why else would she be here? So they could braid each other's hair? She bet the patch of grass on his head would come off with one sharp tug. Her fingers itched to find out. But she needed him. She needed to know what he knew. She took a deep breath.

"Can I have children?"

Every muscle in her body tightened as she waited for his answer. She tried to remember the endless parade of well-bred suitors that Kristoff had paraded before her over the last few months, like so many show dogs. Not a single one had aroused her slightest interest. While they barked and whined, she thought about Rapunzel.

"Your sister already has children."

She ground her teeth. "Answer the question. Or does the Grand Pabbie only pretend to be wise?"

The rock troll took her hand and patted it paternally. She forced herself not to flinch. "I think you already know," he said.

She read the answer in his eyes.

"No." Cold certainly swept through her. She felt numb. "I don't believe it."

The Grand Pabbie sighed and stepped backwards. Another rock, slightly smaller, rolled up and became a female troll. Her eyes were bright and her gaze direct. Elsa wondered if this was Bulda, Kristoff's adoptive mother.

"I'm so sorry, your majesty," Bulda said sadly. "No magical creature may bear children."

"Why not?"

The Grand Pabbie cleared his throat. "We don't know," he confessed. "We only know it is the truth."

Horror and anger welled up inside her. She refused to believe him. "But you have children!"

"Do we?" asked the Grand Pabbie enigmatically.

Elsa tore her gloves off. She no longer cared if the trolls saw her mutilated finger. Their news had pushed her past shame, past caution. "Stop being so mysterious!" she shouted. "Tell me why. Please! I need to know why."

Emotion entered the Grand Pabbie's voice for the first time. "Don't be afraid," he said urgently. "Remember my warning. Fear is your enemy."

She stared at him, shocked that he would dare to bring that up. She decided to blame him for everything. Everything was his fault. "I'm not afraid," she said. "I'm angry."

Bulda took a step back, but the Grand Pabbie didn't budge. His steady gaze infuriated her. She raised her bare hand and pointed it at him. "Tell me the truth, if you're not my enemy." Bulda squeaked in terror and rolled away. Elsa didn't blink. She wasn't going to hurt the old troll. She would just startle him a little.

A geyser of steam erupted directly under her feet. She yelped and stumbled backwards, throwing her arms up to protect her face. Her eyes streamed from the blast of heat. Dimly she saw the Grand Pabbie advancing towards her.

"Why do you think we chose this valley as our home, ice queen?"

Another geyser erupted beneath her. This one was larger, hotter. She screamed in pain and retreated in a shuffling lumber, her eyes tightly closed, until her back was pressed up against the side of the valley. She cautiously opened one eye.

A withering sheet of steam erupted directly in front of her. Her face blistered. She started to climb, desperately clawing her way away from the heat. The curtain of steam wavered and collapsed.

The Grand Pabbie stared up at her warningly. "Don't come back."

Her trip back to the palace was not restrained by diplomacy. It went much faster.

* * *

**Diplomacy 3.2**

After the funeral, Eugene and the earl retired to the earl's private study. The fire in the grate was burning low. Already it was more black than red. Eugene thought about adding another log but the hamper was empty.

"I'm going to miss her," he said. "The queen, I mean."

The earl snorted. "You barely knew her."

"She was my mother-in-law for years," Eugene pointed out.

"Exactly. To you she was an old woman, fussing over an ailing husband. But before Rapunzel was born, she was a different creature all together. The stories I could tell you…" The earl trailed off, his enigmatic face creased with melancholy. The glowing embers of the fire were turning gray and crumbling into ash. "I miss the good old days."

Eugene wondered what the castle had been like during the long years of Rapunzel's captivity. The king and queen sick with worry, always wondering if their child was still alive but never knowing for certain. The whispers of the courtiers as the king aged and no new children arrived. He shifted uncomfortably and tried to change the subject.

"About these negotiations—"

The earl yawned, interrupting him. "How practical you are. Strange to think you were once a romantic outlaw."

Eugene didn't answer. He'd been relying on the Flynn Ryder persona more and more lately. But there was a price. The longer he wore the mask of Flynn Ryder, the harder it was to take off. When he had tried to be himself, he felt awkward and hollow, as though Eugene Fitzherbert was fading away from lack of use.

But he couldn't stop now. Negotiating with Arendelle and the Southern Isles required the cool confidence of the outlaw. But Flynn wasn't just better at politics. He was better with people, too. Everyone preferred dealing with Flynn. Especially Rapunzel. For the thousandth time, he wondered who his wife had married, the orphan or the outlaw.

The earl was still talking, as though to himself. "It's no wonder she fell in love," he said softly. "First man she ever met. Handsome. Exciting." His tone sharpened. "You've told her, correct? That she's coming to the negotiations."

"Of course," lied Eugene. Rapunzel's presence was necessary to show that Corona was serious about peace. But his wife had been trapped in Arendelle for an entire winter. There was no way she would want to go back, certainly not for some vague political reason. He knew what she would say. She needed time to grieve. She needed to stay with her sick father.

He winced pre-emptively. Convincing her would be a delicate, difficult task.

Flynn would have to do it.

* * *

**Diplomacy 3.3**

Rapunzel wrapped her legs around the bowsprit of the ship and stared intently towards the horizon. They had been sailing for three days. Arendelle should be rising into sight at any moment.

The bowsprit rose and fell as the ship slid over the waves. The wind blew gusts of sea spray into her face. She licked her lips and tasted salt. She wound her hands tighter into the ropes that hung above her and scooted a little further out. This far forward, it was easy to imagine that the ship didn't exist. She was flying through the air back to Elsa.

Away from Eugene.

She smiled disdainfully, remembering how he'd asked her to return to Arendelle. He'd nearly stuttered with nerves. Her husband pretended to be confident and strong, but in truth he was a weak and timid man. Why had it taken her so long to understand?

She had allowed him to convince her, carefully keeping her voice sullen even as her heart pounded like mad with delight. Eugene, of course, hadn't noticed. Her lip curled with contempt. He was always trying so hard to fool others. No wonder he was so easy to fool.

Saying goodbye to her father had been more difficult. She'd tiptoed into his rooms and found him staring at the fire that roared on even the hottest of summer days.

He hadn't moved a muscle as she approached, sitting so still that she'd half wondered if rigor mortis had already taken him. She had gingerly rested a hand on his shoulder. His shoulder had been sharp and hard and cold, as though his flesh had melted away and only bone remained. She shuddered as the memory enveloped her.

Her father took a long time to look up at her. His blue eyes, once so bright, were clouded. She waited, hoping against hope that this time he would recognize her. But when he spoke, her heart sank.

"You're that girl," he said harshly. "Always hanging around, claiming to be my daughter."

She knelt in front of him. The heat from the fire roasted her back. "I am your daughter. Don't you remember?"

"Of course I remember my daughter! She's young, with golden hair!" He grabbed her shorn locks. Tears of pain sprang to her eyes. She bit her tongue. She mustn't cry. "Not like this!"

"Father, Eugene cut my hair." She watched, helpless, as Gothel's face withered and the witch's cloak fell to the ground as gently as a feather because there was nothing in it but dust.

Her father's jaw spasmed. "Lies! Stop lying! Why do you insist on tormenting us?" His voice broke. "Hasn't the queen suffered enough?"

She grabbed the gnarled fist of his hand and tugged his fingers away from his palm. "I cut your hand, father, here! I healed you with my tears. I'm your daughter. I'm Punzie!"

The cloudy eyes focused. "Punzie."

"Yes, father. It's me."

He laughed merrily. The corners of his blue eyes crinkled. "Pretzel!" His voice softened. "Your mother, God rest her soul, was so sick when she was pregnant with you. I would sit by her bed and pray for a miracle." He chuckled. "Your mother would tease me. But my prayers were answered. You were our miracle."

He cradled his hands together, as though holding something small and infinitely precious. "You were such a tiny, twisted thing. The Pretzel, she called you. Before… before…"

He pressed his palms against the threadbare arms of his chair. She held her breath as he tried to stand. His arms shook. He stared past her into the empty room. "Where's my daughter? Punzie! Rapunzel!" His voice skirled higher with terror. "They've taken her! Kidnapped!"

A sheet of seawater struck her. Ropes bit into her hands. She gasped with pain and shock, blinking the water out of her eyes as she came back to the present. Directly in front of her, illuminated pink and blue by the setting sun, the palace of Arendelle rose out of the sea. It looked unreal, a fairy creation of diamonds and ice.

Elsa was inside that palace. Elsa, with her cool touch and warm lips. Elsa, with the little hiccupy giggle she made when she was embarrassed. Perhaps at that very moment she was watching the ship approach, with Johannes standing beside her like some great, grim, guardian bear.

Johannes. Johannes had presumed to rescue her. He'd made her feel weak.

* * *

**Diplomacy 3.4**

Elsa knocked hesitantly on the nursery door.

"Anna?" No answer. She pushed the door open, wincing as the hinges creaked. "Anna, are you there?" She peeked inside.

Her sister was sitting on a chair next to the crib. She was gently rocking Adam, her arms clasped high over her growing belly. The wet nurse was practically standing on top of Anna with her arms crossed. She glanced up and glowered as Elsa crept into the room.

Anna put a finger to her lips. "Sssshhhhhh," she breathed softly. "I just got him to sleep."

Elsa raised her eyebrows expectantly at the wet nurse and glanced at the door. The wet nurse sighed audibly and made a great show of gathering her things. Elsa waited impatiently. Finally, the woman cleared out. Anna spent the entire time staring down at the baby's pink face. Adam had noticeably grown since Elsa had last seem him. He was practically an infant.

"He's so big," Elsa whispered.

Anna smiled proudly. "You're my big boy, aren't you?" Adam sighed in his sleep. "Yes, you are."

Elsa cleared her throat. "I'm going to name Adam my heir apparent."

Anna startled. Adam stirred. His eyes opened and he blinked wearily once, twice. Both women held their breath. The tiny eyes closed again.

"Elsa, you're talking nonsense! Who put this silly notion in your head?"

She could still see the flinty eyes of the Grand Pabbie confirming her worst fears. She could still feel the steam billowing up under her feet. She considered telling her sister the truth. But that was madness. The truth would only hurt their relationship.

"Nobody!" she retorted. "It's just, with the negotiations starting tomorrow…" She trailed off. It felt gauche to combine politics with family. But she was queen of Arendelle. She had duties to her people that she had to fulfill, even if they made her feel uncomfortable.

"You want to throw the Southern Isles an olive branch," said Anna heavily. She still didn't look up. "Oh, Elsa! What a nice idea. But it won't do any good."

Elsa bristled. "Yes, it will! They want me to abdicate in your favor. Well, at least this takes care of the future."

"It's the present they fear. Your power. They're terrified at the thought of a strong woman." Anna tenderly brushed an invisible something off Adam's face. "And what about your own children?"

Elsa rubbed absently at her missing finger. "Maybe I won't have children."

"Of course you will! Why wouldn't you?"

"Maybe I don't want them."

"Of course you do! You just wait," said Anna complacently. "One day the right man will throw you over his shoulder."

Elsa thought about Rapunzel. She should tell her sister. The secrets were piling up. But now wasn't the time. Rapunzel was back in Corona. Nothing had happened between them. Nothing serious, that is, although she regretted not trying.

She decided instead to reveal a smaller truth. An easier truth. Telling a truth couldn't be lying, even if it wasn't the truth that mattered.

"Maybe," she said carefully, "I can't have children."

Anna looked up for the first time. Her eyes narrowed. "What makes you say that?"

"Just a hunch."

Anna blew a raspberry. "You went to see them. Didn't you?"

"Yes."

"After what I told you. After everything!" Elsa didn't say anything. Any apology would sound hollow. "You saw the Grand Pabbie?"

Elsa nodded. "Yes." She was starting to feel like a witness under direct examination.

"What did he tell you?"

"I'm a magical being. I can't—I can't have babies."

Anna scoffed. "Trolls! What does he know about children!"

"He knows about magic, Anna."

Anna opened her mouth, then closed it. "Well," she said, in a mollifying tone of voice, "I don't suppose Adam would mind. If you think it'll help."

"Thank you," said Elsa gratefully. She stood to leave.

"What about Olaf?" Her sister made it sound like a statement.

Elsa blinked at the non sequitur. She had almost forgotten about the sentient snowman. "Olaf? He's probably still in my bedroom."

"Your enemies," said Anna. "They've seen your power to destroy. What if they find out about your power to create?"

* * *

**Diplomacy 3.5**

Elsa walked very slowly back to her apartment. Her crown was getting heavier. Every time she thought she'd gotten used to the weight, another unpleasant responsibility was added.

She tried to think of a reason not to do what needed to be done. Hans had already met and destroyed Marshmallow, the giant snowman she'd built to defend herself. But Marshmallow was crude by her current standards. She doubted Hans realized the full extent of her power. And none of her other enemies had a clue. They would never suspect that the ice figures she'd placed throughout the palace and gardens were sentient.

Unless they met Olaf. Then someone would put two and two together. Perhaps Hans would figure it out, or the Earl of Morner, that well-dressed old man who shadowed Rapunzel's husband like a factotum or nursemaid. Discovery would mean disaster. War, which she was trying so hard to avoid, would become inevitable.

She would command Olaf to stay in the closet of her bedroom and not make a sound. No one would find him there. But Olaf was naive, careless. What if he got lonely or curious?

"Consider your people," she told herself sternly. "Your duty is to protect them. Duty requires sacrifice."

She pictured the peaceful kingdom of Arendelle, laid waste by war. The towers of her palace, toppled. The homes of her people, burned. Their bodies scattered limply on the ground. Terror and guilt choked her. She would do anything to prevent that. Anything.

The quiet familiarity of her apartment calmed her. Her bare feet sank deep into her bedroom's thick rugs. She pulled open the double doors of her closet. Olaf was sitting on a heap of empty shoe boxes. He looked up, surprised. A huge, joyful grin spread across his face.

"Oh! Elsa!" He stood and stretched his stick arms. "Are you free now? Can we go outside and play?"

"Absolutely," said Elsa firmly. "Just let me slip on some shoes." She grabbed the first pair of clogs she saw. Olaf emerged, blinking slowly as though he'd been confined to the small, dark space for months. Which, she realized guiltily, he had.

Olaf waddled over to the window. "Look how green everything is," he breathed. "The whole world's alive!" He turned towards her, like a puppy checking on its master. His face fell. He padded towards her and took her wounded hand in both of his. Even through his gloves and her own, she could feel the pressure of his twig fingers. "Elsa," he said pathetically, "what's wrong?"

Unbidden tears welled up. Her nose burned. "It's nothing."

He patted her hand reassuringly. "You can tell me."

"People are coming here tomorrow." Talking to Olaf felt good. She wondered why she hadn't bothered to visit him in months.

Olaf nodded wisely. "They're your friends."

She shook her head. "No, Olaf. They're my enemies."

Olaf's eyes widened. "Ohhhh… I thought fear was your enemy."

"I am afraid," she confessed. "Afraid for my people." She tried to blink her tears away. The snowman blurred.

"You love your people."

"Yes."

"They are lucky," he said wistfully. He straightened his carrot nose. It was spotted and bent with age. "Elsa, I've stayed quiet and still, just like you asked. No one's seen me."

She felt like someone was pushing on the back of her eyeballs with thick, hot fingers. "You've been very good."

He rubbed one foot shyly against the other. "Would you like a hug, Elsa?"

She spread her arms. Olaf smiled and hugged her. She wrapped her arms around his small body. He sighed contentedly and rested his head on her shoulder. She took a deep, shuddering breath.

He patted her on the shoulder. "Do you feel better now?"

The snowman fell apart. Chunks of snow slipped through her arms and tumbled to her feet. The pile of snow melted into the air. All that remained were a few brittle sticks, some lumps of charcoal, and an old carrot.

Elsa stood up and carefully straightened her clothing. Then she picked up the sticks and the charcoal and the carrot and put them into the waste bin.

Sigge was standing silently by the door.

"It was necessary," she said defiantly.

"I didn't say anything," said Sigge.

"My enemies arrive tomorrow. I want them monitored at all times. Tell the others."

Sigge inclined his translucent head slightly. "To hear is to obey, my queen." With a swish of his tail, the mastiff was gone.

Elsa went into her sitting room. She created an ice lamb, small enough that it could huddle in her hand. Then she created a tiny ice lion. When it shook out its mane, snow flurries flew. She named the lamb Ariel and the lion Leo. She introduced them to each other, and then to her other creations in the room. The butterflies and the birds on the mantle. Arvid in front of the fire. Dominic, the mouse, who felt safer hiding under the divan.

She started to feel better. As her guilt waned, her anxiety about the negotiations waxed. A million tasks demanded her attention. Time was against her. She rang for Johannes.

He arrived promptly. "Your majesty."

She handed him the waste bin. "Empty that," she ordered. "And find Kristoff. I need to speak with him immediately."

She closed her eyes while she waited. She could feel, almost like a sparkling mist, the dozens of ice animals that she had already placed throughout the palace, from tiny Dominic and Ariel all the way up to Arvid and Sigge.

But they weren't enough. Not nearly enough.

She heard Kristoff clear his throat. She opened her eyes. He was watching Leo lick Ariel's coat. Ah. Well, she'd meant to tell him anyway.

"I imagine you're confused," she said brightly. "Arvid!"

The ice mastiff sprang to the middle of the room with a single bound and stood at attention, fur bristling, ice fangs bared. Kristoff jumped and took two steps backward, his eyes wide.

"At ease!"

Arvid relaxed.

"That was the name of one of the guards killed the night of the assassination attempt," said Kristoff slowly. His eyes never left the massive dog.

"Yes," she acknowledged. "I figured this was a suitable tribute to their memory. Arvid and Sigge continue to guard me." She wondered how Kristoff would react to this next bit. "Don't you?"

"Better, if you ask me," said Arvid. "We never sleep. Or eat. Or defecate."

"Yes, thank you," interrupted Elsa hastily. Kristoff had turned pale. But he didn't say anything stupid. She gave him credit for that.

"My creations. They don't just protect me, Kristoff." She said it as gently as she could. "They've not just alive. They're sentient."

"They're people."

He was quick, her brother-in-law. "That's right."

"How many have you made?"

"Quite a few."

Kristoff finally looked at her. His eyes were full of an unexpected intensity. Perhaps he wasn't taking this as well as she had thought. "How many?" he asked. It was almost a snarl.

"Dozens," she admitted.

Kristoff sank onto the divan. "When your people learn of this, what then?"

"They won't," she said promptly. "That's the point. You're the only one who knows. Let's keep it that way. With the negotiations starting, the information they can gather will be invaluable."

"Creatures of ice are watching your people and reporting back! Does their privacy mean nothing to you?"

"It's necessary," she said stiffly. Why was Kristoff being like this? He had to see how useful her creations were.

Kristoff folded his arms. "When they learn, they'll react badly."

She frowned at his presumption. "I know my people, Kristoff. They'll understand."

"Will they." He didn't sound convinced.

"Yes! I'm trying to keep them safe!"

"By spying on them."

"By spying on their enemies!"

"Enemies that you created, Elsa," he said accusingly. "Your power created this problem."

She snapped. "And my power is going to solve it!" Arvid growled. Wariness replaced doubt in Kristoff's eyes. He bowed his head.

"Of course, your majesty. Forgive me. I was only… startled."

His apology calmed her. She decided to move on to what she had originally planned to discuss. It would be a lot for him to process all at once, but she had neither the time nor the inclination to nurse him. "I know I've put Arendelle in danger. But I want to help my people as well."

"What exactly do you have in mind?"

"My icemen have already freed up your ice harvesters and the lumbermen. What other industries can they reform?"

Kristoff stared at her blankly. His eyes occasionally darted back to Arvid.

She started pacing impatiently. "We send raw materials for processing to the Southern Isles, then King Westergaard makes all the money! I refuse to support my enemies! Not when my creations are capable of replacing them."

Kristoff scratched his head thoughtfully, then reeled off a list of tasks. Carpentry. Mining. Smelting. Milling. Weaving.

Elsa's enthusiasm swelled. She was sure her creations could do every task Kristoff named. They weren't limited to human size, or to human shape. They were tougher than humans. And they always did what they were told.

She sketched out her vision. None of her people would have to work. Anything they wanted, her creations would provide. Arendelle would become the strongest, most powerful country in the region.

"What do you think?" she asked eagerly.

Kristoff didn't seem to share her excitement. His face was drawn and grim. "You want to replace all your people?"

"I want to improve their lives."

"By taking away their livelihoods. And what will your people do, in this perfect future of yours?"

"They won't have to do anything! Arendelle will be rich."

Kristoff took a deep breath. "Let's revisit this after the negotiations," he suggested. "Meanwhile, the secret of your creatures is safe with me." He eyed Arvid again. "Can they be trusted not to give themselves away?"

She bristled. "Of course."

"In that case…" Kristoff straightened. "If there's nothing else, your majesty." He sounded very formal and distant.

Elsa excused him, exasperated by his recalcitrance. Didn't he understand that she loved her people? Love was sacrifice. She'd sacrificed so much for them. More than they knew. She could still feel the reassuring weight of Olaf's body in her arms.

* * *

**Diplomacy 3.6**

Elsa studied her formal dining table. It was massive, a thick slice carved from an ancient oak tree. Piles of documents - treaties, maps, contracts, and correspondence - sat at each place setting instead of the usual dinnerware. Heavy water pitchers, full to the brim, squatted together in the center of the table, awkwardly out of reach.

There would be eight attendees. She would sit at the head of the table. Kristoff would sit at her right. Then Magnus. Then Hans. Eugene Fitzherbert, as the neutral party, would sit at the foot. The Earl of Morner to his right. A third, unnamed representative of Corona next to him. Then, finally, at her left, the sole diplomat that the Duke of Weselton had agreed to send, the Count of Freiland.

Magnus. Hans. The Count of Freiland. Almost half the attendees were her enemies. She knew they hated her. She shuddered at the thought of being so close to people who wanted her dead. Which of them had sent the assassins?

She would have allies present as well. Eugene and the earl. Kristoff, of course. She could always count on Kristoff. Still, she dreaded the negotiations. She wanted nothing more than to sprint up the stairs, dive into bed, and pull up the covers.

Footsteps rang out across the floor. It was Kristoff. She checked her gloves one last time. "If I start to lose control," she ordered, "kick me."

Kristoff chuckled. "With pleasure." She glared sideways at him just as Johannes, in his deep, booming voice, began to announce their guests.

First came the delegation from the Southern Isles. Prince Magnus. Prince Hans. She greeted them as politely as she could. Next came the delegation from Weselton. The Count of Freiland was very thin and as stiff as his collar. Last came the delegation from Corona. Eugene Fitzherbert, arm in arm with Rapunzel.

Elsa's heart almost stopped. Then, as though to make up for lost time, it started beating again twice as fast and twice as loud. She was surprised that no one else seemed to hear it. She greeted Eugene warmly, then turned to Rapunzel.

Their eyes met. Rapunzel curtsied demurely, then leaned forward. Their cheeks brushed. Rapunzel's breath was hot against her ear. She shivered with excitement.

Rapunzel whispered: "You're not going to try to kiss me, are you?" Her pleading tone intoxicated Elsa. She felt suffused with a sudden confidence. Eugene had already passed into the dining room, where he was making small talk with Prince Magnus.

"Try?" she replied. She was careful not to look at Rapunzel, at her white neck or the delicate curve of her collarbone. Further down the hall, the Earl of Morner was waiting patiently. She hoped he couldn't read lips. "No. Am I going to press you against the wall, right here in front of your husband, and lick your ear, your throat, your breasts? Perhaps."

She flashed Rapunzel a wicked grin. Rapunzel flushed and almost stumbled walking into the dining room.

The Earl of Morner approached. "I'm glad to see you and the princess are such good friends."

"By the end of today," replied Elsa cheerfully, "I hope we all are." She almost floated to her chair.

The Count of Freiland cleared his throat before she was even seated. "If I may." His voice was a shrill whine.

He proceeded to inform Elsa that she was too young to rule. Too inexperienced. Too emotional. The predictable result had been disaster after disaster. Had she not lost control on the very day of her coronation? Someone so unbalanced was unfit to rule.

He talked at her, a weary schoolmaster lecturing a spoiled, hopelessly incompetent child. His certainty and the directness of his criticism almost defeated her. Then she noticed Rapunzel. The princess was staring incredulously at the count. Her look helped Elsa realize that everything the count was saying was a lie.

She bowed her head, as though suitably chastised. The count leaned smugly back in his chair. "Good. I see you understand. Fortunately, there is a simple solution to this problem."

"And that is?" she asked meekly.

The Count licked his thin lips. "Abdicate in favor of your sister. Resume your payments to the Southern Isles. In this way, balance will be restored."

Elsa nodded seriously. "I may do that," she said. "Or I may launch a fleet of ice ships that will sink anything larger than a bathtub. Your duke may request the privilege of a merchant navy. Of course, tribute would be required. I think a third of gross revenue is an appropriate figure."

The count flushed red. His mouth gasped open, closed, then fell open again. He looked like a hooked fish.

Prince Magnus cleared his throat. "I warned the count that his approach would fail. You're far too evil to listen to reason."

She clenched her fists under the table. "I'm not evil."

Magnus leaned forward. "Have you ever watched a man drown? He clings to the surface desperately. He screams in terror. A hopeless, terrible sound. He swallows salt water. He vomits. He weakens. The sea pulls him under. He struggles to the surface. The sea pulls him under again. He claws his way back to the surface, but this time a little more slowly. It takes hours for him to die."

Elsa stared at the table. She couldn't bear to look at Rapunzel. She was terrified of what she'd see.

Magnus wasn't finished. "How many innocent sailors did you deliberately drown, just to send us a message?"

"Nine hundred and seventy-nine," said Hans.

Elsa flinched.

Magnus whistled slowly. "I knew you were a murderess as soon as my brother told me how you almost froze your own people to death. But the duke and Mr. Fitzherbert vouched for you, Elsa. They swore you would never hurt someone deliberately." He shrugged. "You proved me right."

Her thumb brushed against the stump of her missing finger. She could feel the wooden replacement that Anna had given her. Losing a finger had weakened her power. Magnus was trying to do the same thing in order to control her. He want her so wrecked by guilt that she'd beg to abdicate. He didn't really care about the sailors she'd been forced to drown in order to prevent a war.

"You're right," she said, sliding her right glove off under the table. "I was sending you a message. Apparently, you didn't get it. I'm stronger than all of you put together. Or do you require further proof?"

She slammed the palm of her right hand down onto the table. Ice rippled across the surface, burying the documents that Kristoff had so carefully prepared. The table groaned. The sheet of ice grew thicker. Hans and Mr. Fitzherbert cried out in alarm. The table shrieked, then collapsed into a confusion of jagged splinters. The ice melted into the air. A blizzard of paper whipped about the room.

All the men leapt to their feet. They were shouting incoherently. Rapunzel looked at Elsa. Her eyes were dancing. Elsa winked.

"What were you thinking!" Mr. Fitzherbert's hair, normally so perfect, was a mess. "This is a diplomatic meeting!"

Kristoff stepped between them. "Calm down, Mr. Fitzherbert."

"Like hell!" he exclaimed. "Everyone else is too scared to tell your ice queen the truth, so I will."

"Because you've been so considerate of my feelings up to this point."

"We're afraid of you, Elsa! No human has power like yours. No human was ever meant to!"

She understood everything now. This wasn't a negotiation. They were all against her. "Don't pull your punches, Mr. Fitzherbert. Eugene. Tell me what you really think."

"You think you're strong, but you're just scary! You're not even human! What happens when your people find out the truth?"

"My people already know the truth," she retorted. "And they still love me."

Eugene visibly tried to calm himself. He smoothed his hair. She could see his hands shaking. "Maybe," he admitted. "But for how long? You can't fool them forever."

She remembered Kristoff's reaction when she created her icemen at the lake. How he'd blanched at the knowledge that her ice animals were conscious.

"You're a freak, Elsa," said Eugene flatly. "A magical freak. If you don't abdicate, I guarantee your people revolt. Maybe not today, or tomorrow. But you'll always be afraid of them turning on you."

Fear gripped her. That fear was the whole point of his speech. He wanted her to be afraid. But he'd made a mistake. Perhaps a fatal one.

"Rapunzel's magical as well. Is your wife a freak?"

Eugene stared at her. Conflicting emotions passed over his face: fear, arrogance, anger, doubt, hurt. Good. She was glad she had hurt him. She wanted to see him as he really was.

"It's true," said Rapunzel clearly.

"That's impossible," said the Earl of Morner. He sounded almost as shaken as Eugene looked. "You're no longer a blonde, your highness. Mr. Fitzherbert cut your hair himself. We all know the story. They teach it at every school in Corona."

Rapunzel smiled wistfully. "We may have left out some parts."

"For instance, the part about how magical beings can't have children." Elsa watched the shot hit home. Eugene recoiled in shock. "Tell me, do you teach that in your schools?"

Eugene almost spat at her. "You lie."

"You've been wondering yourself. What was wrong. Which of you was to blame."

Eugene's face turned deathly pale. "Actually, your majesty, we were all wondering why you're such a bitch."

Elsa saw red. Before she could stop herself, jagged icicles sprouted from the ceiling.

Kristoff grunted with alarm. She half-expected him to kick her under the table. But she'd destroyed the table. "I propose a break," he said. "We'll recommence tomorrow at noon."

"Agreed," said Hans quickly.

Eugene grabbed Rapunzel's elbow, dragging her to her feet. "Come."

She expected Rapunzel to protest. But the princess nodded obediently. The Earl of Morner led the couple out of the room. Elsa's heart ached, watching them go.

The others followed in a belligerent silence. Kristoff kicked at the rubble of the table. "Now how the hell are we going to salvage this?"

"Salvage?" Elsa laughed bitterly. "Face facts, Kristoff. They all hate me."

Kristoff gestured angrily at the rubble. "Is it any wonder?" Elsa's shoulders slumped. Kristoff's disappointment hurt worse than any insult. He sighed wearily. "Lay low for the rest of the day. Give the storm a chance to clear. I'll talk to the earl."

"You're not angry, are you?" She tried not to plead. "You're still loyal?"

"Of course I am," replied Kristoff stoutly. "Of course I am."

* * *

**Diplomacy 3.7**

Kristoff needed to be alone. He needed to clear his head. He walked briskly through the palace, his boots ringing against the stone, and out into the gardens. They were blissfully quiet. He could hear only the rustling of the leaves in the summer breeze. He took a deep breath, then another.

A slight motion in the branches above caught his eye. He stopped and stared. A translucent sparrow was peering down at him. His fists clenched. With an effort, he resisted throwing a rock at Elsa's spy.

He moved on, only to catch a glimpse of the Earl of Morner. The earl appeared to be admiring a rose trellis. Kristoff frowned with displeasure and tried to duck down a different path. He was too late. The earl waved a greeting and ambled over.

Kristoff tilted his head towards a small door almost hidden in the wall of the garden. "It's too stuffy in here," he said brusquely. He led the earl to the center of Market Square. There were no trees here. Elsa's creatures had nowhere to hide. Still, he kept his eyes open.

"Well," said the earl, "that could have gone better."

Kristoff was in no mood for diplomatic doublespeak. He couldn't understand how the earl could pretend to be so relaxed. "You mean it was a bloody disaster."

The earl made a face. "Quite." They paused at a stall selling flowers. The earl bought a bundle of daffodils and inhaled deeply. The flowers hid his lips. "Although it certainly answered one of my questions."

Kristoff guessed where he was going. "If magical beings can't have children, then Rapunzel is barren."

The earl nodded. "I had hoped that the princess' magic had completely left her."

"But that means…" Kristoff bit his tongue. The earl smiled indulgently. "You are quicker than you look, Mr. Bjorgman, although admittedly the next step is a small one."

If Rapunzel couldn't have children, then neither could Elsa. "My son will be king of Arendelle."

"Indeed. And Adam Bjorgman - along with every other king in the region - will see an empty throne in Corona. Wars have been fought over far less. As we just learned."

Kristoff bristled at the blunt implication. "Are wars really fought because a young queen had a moment of pique?"

"Yes," replied the earl. They reached the end of the line of stalls. The earl threw his flowers into a bin. "But Elsa's outburst today was merely the capstone. War is inevitable."

"That would be a mistake," Kristoff said carefully. Behind them, the buzz of the market sounded very far away. "I know Eugene is afraid. I understand his fear. But tell him this: don't antagonize Elsa. You've only caught a glimpse of her power."

The earl nodded earnestly. "I totally agree with you," he said. "I wish Corona had a leader wise enough to understand. A leader whom Elsa trusted and would feel comfortable making peace with." He sighed theatrically. "If only I knew someone like that."

* * *

**Diplomacy 3.8**

Rapunzel whirled furiously on Eugene as soon as they were back in their room. "Tell me you don't believe her!"

"I called her a liar to her face. What more do you want?"

"Tell. Me. You. Don't. Believe. Her."

Her husband spread his hands. "I don't believe her. Are you happy now?"

No, she wasn't happy. She hadn't been happy for a long time. And now her husband was looking at her like a puppy that had just been kicked. He was so tame! Where was the brave outlaw she'd fallen in love with? He'd been replaced by a walking, talking outfit: impeccably designed, handsomely made, but empty.

"You coward!" She shoved him, hoping to get a response, but he just stepped backward, absorbing the blow. His calmness was infuriating. "Letting her talk about me that way! In front of everyone. You don't care about me. You certainly don't love me."

"Of course I love you, Punz."

He reached for her. She thrilled with anticipation. Her insults had worked. Flynn was back. He'd remind her how strong he was. He'd make her feel safe. She needed him so badly. She braced expectantly.

But it was Eugene who rubbed her shoulders. Eugene, who reached awkwardly for her breasts. His hands were soft and tentative. He was repulsive.

She whirled about, ready to strike. "Get off me!"

He obeyed, almost jerking his hands away. His weakness disgusted her. He was no match for Elsa! Even Johannes would be too much. The one-arm brute of a man had defeated her attackers effortlessly, then carried her all the way back to the palace. Eugene would never do anything like that. He didn't have the muscles. Besides, his clothes would get muddy. She giggled at the thought.

"What's gotten into you, Rapunzel?"

She rolled her eyes. "You sound like a bad novel." She changed out of her dress into a short spring skirt and a man's shirt with buttons. He just stood there and watched her. She walked provocatively towards the door. Any second now he would pick her up and throw her onto the bed. But he didn't. He let her leave. She almost hissed in her rage.

She stopped just outside the door. Part of her still expected him to come running after her. But she hesitated for only a moment, then wandered restlessly through the familiar corridors of the palace. Somehow she found herself outside Elsa's apartment. The guards were gone. She didn't stop to think. She pushed the door open and boldly stepped inside.

"Elsa?" Her voice sounded weak in the large, empty room. Her shoulders slumped with disappointment. Then her natural curiosity took over. She'd never been alone in Elsa's sitting room. She walked over to a bright-eyed ice sparrow on the mantle and ran a finger over the delicately carved feathers. She marveled at the craftsmanship; the sparrow almost looked alive.

She explored the apartment, growing bolder as she went. No one appeared to stop at her. The rooms were simple, almost stark, except for the ice sculptures. A small lamb, laying between the paws of a lion, particularly delighted her. She swooped it up and jumped onto Elsa's large, four-poster bed.

"Aren't you the cutest thing!" she exclaimed.

The lamb's coat looked so real she tried to pet it, but the statue was cold and hard to the touch. She tossed it carelessly onto the bedside table, then fell backwards onto the blankets. They smelled like Elsa. She stared at the ceiling, wondering what Elsa was doing. Then, bored, she leapt up and pulled open the double doors to the closet.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

She knew that voice. It was Johannes. Her heart started to beat faster. All of her experiences in Arendelle fell into place. She'd never been with anyone, other than Eugene. She'd certainly never seduced a man before. But today seemed like a good day to start.

She turned slowly to face him. He was standing in the doorway, his face red with anger. She glided over and placed her hand on the shoulder of his good arm.

"I wondered when you'd come," she said. She ran her hand down to his left bicep and gripped it. She looked up at him innocently, then started to unbutton her shirt. "I can't stop thinking about you, Johannes. How you saved me. I knew if I came here, you'd find me."

He stared down at her with utter confusion. "Are you mad, Rapunzel?" But he didn't look away.

Another button slipped free. She knew he could see the swell of her breasts. The danger of what she was doing, here of all places, intoxicated her. Elsa hadn't cared enough to push their relationship to the next level. Eugene hadn't cared enough to chase her. But Johannes wouldn't be able to resist. She was certain of it.

Her other hand snaked out and felt the rough fabric of his trousers, just above the knee. Her fingers danced higher, their tips running lightly over the muscles of his thighs. Despite her best intentions, she found herself becoming aroused.

Johannes grabbed her hand roughly. "Stop, your highness!" She took the opportunity to lean into him. Her lips brushed his. She could feel his eyes on her body. She unbuttoned another button.

"Tell me you don't want this," she breathed in his ear. "Tell me you haven't dreamed of this." She pivoted her hips into his and felt him respond. She smirked. "That's what I thought."

He seized her wrist and pushed her away, almost lifting her off the ground.

She rubbed her wrist. "Brute," she pouted. "Did I make you angry, brute? Maybe I need to be punished." She clasped her hands demurely behind her back, pulling her half-open shirt tight across her chest.

He shook his head. "Not going to happen."

Maybe he was one of those men who thought women were weak. Wilting flowers, in need of comfort and command. She slumped out of her provocative pose and began to sniffle. She must not cry. "Why are you so cruel?" She gazed soulfully up at him through her lashes, silently pleading. "Help me, please."

She leaned into him again before he could stop her. His body was so solid. She slid her hands across his massive chest and into his short, coarse hair.

"I need a child," she begged. "A man's child. You're a man, Johannes. A real man. I want your child. Give me a child. Please, Johannes. Please." Her eyes burned and it took everything she had not to start weeping on the spot. She pulled his head down, praying that he would kiss her. That he would treat her like a woman, just this once.

Johannes disentangled himself and stepped backwards. "You're crazy."

His rejection knocked over a dark vessel inside her heart that she hadn't even known was there. Fire and venom poured out. "Maybe I am," she spat. "But you're even crazier if you think you can refuse me and get away with it."

He snorted. "Watch me, princess." He turned to leave.

"Take one step and I scream," she threatened. He froze. "Imagine if Elsa walked in right now. What would she see?" She reached down and ripped the last few buttons off her shirt. "My shirt torn, my wrist bruised."

His eyes narrowed. "What are you playing at?"

"Imagine the look on her face when I tell her what you did."

"I didn't do anything."

"But who is she going to believe?"

"She'll believe her loyal servant," said Johannes.

She took his one hand and placed it, unresisting, on her right breast. His rough callouses brushed across her nipple. "Then walk away," she breathed. "And let's find out."

She unbuckled his belt. He didn't move. She slipped her hand inside his pants, grinning. She'd won.

* * *

**Diplomacy 3.9**

Elsa sat on the shore of Fjellvannet, fiddling with her would-be assassin's ceramic unicorn and watching her creations. They were hard at work. They were always hard at work.

She should have been happy at the progress she'd made. Difficult, dangerous jobs were slowly being automated. Production was through the roof. The price of wood and bread had plummeted. None of her people would freeze to death that winter, or go hungry. So why this gnawing discontent?

Her human army finally had uniforms. They could even march in a straight line. But that didn't make them real soldiers. Corona and the Southern Isles could put experienced battalions into the field. Sending ex-foresters and millworkers into battle against those highly trained troops would be murder. She needed a new type of creation. An ice soldier, ready for war.

She stuffed the tiny unicorn back into her pants pocket and pulled off her gloves, frowning with concentration. A tall figure billowed out of the ground in front of her and stood at attention. She smiled. The endless hours of practice had paid off. This was no childish snowman like Olaf, no lumpy grotesque like Marshmallow. The ice soldier almost looked human, if humans were twelve feet tall and weighted eight hundred pounds. He held a club of ice longer than she was tall.

She pointed at a nearby pine tree. "Attack the enemy." The ice soldier tromped over. The club smashed through the air once, twice. The pine tree groaned and toppled over.

Half an hour later she had ten ice soldiers. An hour later she had twenty. But she still wasn't satisfied. Her soldiers needed her to command them. On a battlefield, even with her magic to protect her, accidents were possible. A stray `arrow could easily kill her.

A new creation bubbled and smoked out of the ground. His head was level with the tops of the trees. The ice giant's chest was hollow, as though someone had scooped it out. He knelt down carefully, picked Elsa up, and placed her in his chest. A chair formed. She sat. A protective screen of ice slid into place, sealing off the hollow. There. She was now invulnerable.

The giant stood at her command. She looked down proudly at the rows of her soldiers and laughed. Let Prince Magnus and Mr. Fitzherbert attack her, if they dared!

* * *

**Diplomacy 3.10**

Rapunzel luxuriated in Elsa's bed, afterwards. Her limbs were loose, her muscles relaxed. She almost purred with satisfaction.

Johannes had served his purpose, then fled. Her lip curled. Men were always posturing and strutting in public, but get them alone and even the toughest of them turned into fumbling boys.

She stretched, then caressed her naked belly, tracing swirls across her sweat-slicked skin. New life might be growing inside her. It was Eugene's fault they had never had a child. Corona would have an heir. She'd seen to that.

She knew she wasn't a magical being. Not any more. Wasn't her blonde hair gone? Her tears might have once contained the healing power of the golden flower, but their potency diminished every time she cried. She doubted they could still heal a pinprick.

She shook her head violently to reassure herself. No. She wasn't barren. The idea was absurd.

She turned abruptly onto her side. The ice lamb was still standing on the bedside table. Its head was turned towards her, its carved eyes blank and staring. She stared back.

In the books she'd read as a child, the love scenes had always been left out, reduced to ellipses or a nod and a wink to the reader. But that was wrong. You learned so much about a man by the way he made love. When he took control, and how. The words he said. The sounds he made, especially near the end.

Johannes had been a terrible lover.

A quiet voice in the back of her mind whispered that it was her fault, that he had been compelled. But that was nonsense. She was a princess. Any man would have killed for the chance to sleep with her. If Johannes was ungrateful, he had only himself to blame.

She snatched up the ice lamb and plopped the tiny sculpture down onto her breastbone. She tucked her chin into her neck, pouted her lips, and glared at the lamb petulantly.

"Why should I feel guilty, lambkin? Tell me." She squinted interrogatively. "Well? I'm waiting." She was almost afraid the lamb would answer, but it just stared at her. "That's what I thought."

She picked the lamb up again and carefully examined it. "Gosh, but you're creepy. I wonder where Elsa is? Imagine, lambkin, if she came in right now and found me here? I wonder what she would do."

On second thought, she decided, it would be better not to be found here. Not now. She pawed at the floor for her clothes. Maybe Eugene was feeling apologetic.

* * *

**Diplomacy 3.11**

Anna stooped down awkwardly, her enormous belly almost touching the floor. She beckoned towards the tiny, puzzled human who was being physically held in mid-air just a few feet away.

She held out her arms. "C'mon, Adam. Walk to mommy! You can do it!" She nodded to the wet nurse and held her breath.

Her son's eyes were as round as saucers. His feet, still held slightly off the ground, started pumping. His arms, caught up in the general excitement, waggled fiercely. The wet nurse gently lowered him to the stone floor. He cackled madly, took one step, and sat down hard.

The wet nurse picked him up and placed him back on his feet. Anna beckoned again. This time her son widened his stance, took four quick, solid steps, and fell into her arms, chortling triumphantly. She hefted him up into the air.

"Oh, good boy! Adam! Adam!" She felt drunk with pride and happiness. Adam laughed again, a deep natural vibrato. The sound was contagious. She laughed along with him. The wet nurse straightened up with a grimace, holding her back. Anna ignored her.

The door to her bedroom burst open. She looked up in anger. Kristoff stomped in. His face was a thundercloud. She opened her mouth to tell him how amazing and wonderful their son was. He slammed the door shut. The ice swan on the mantle rocked.

Adam started to cry. Anna glanced meaningfully at the wet nurse. The woman quickly bundled the child out of the room. Anna focused all of her attention on Kristoff. Her husband was acting like an interloper.

"Well, I hope you're happy," she snapped. "Adam was just taking his first steps and you ruined it!"

Kristoff didn't answer her. He didn't even look at her. He paced around the room, scanning shelves and pulling open drawers. Her bewilderment and anger grew. His eyes finally stopped on the ice swan. He swore mightily under his breath, grabbed the tiny, heartbreakingly delicate figurine, and smashed it against the floor. Shards of ice sprayed into the air. She raised one arm to shield her eyes. Kristoff drove the heel of his heavy boot down and ground the shattered fragments into the flagstones.

Anna gasped. "Elsa gave me that!"

"Are there any more?"

Something in his voice made her go still. She shook her head. He stepped heavily towards her. She stepped back instinctively, almost afraid, but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards him. Her belly kept them slightly apart, like an overzealous chaperone at a school dance.

Kristoff kissed her ferociously, then pressed his lips against her ear. "They're alive," he whispered. "Spies for your sister."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he kissed her again, his tongue pressing against hers. Somehow, they were on the bed. His hands tore at her clothing. His sudden onslaught took her by surprise, but her body responded of its own accord.

"This is ridiculous," she protested feebly. He turned her forcefully onto her side. He hadn't been so aggressive in a long time. She would never have admitted it, but she liked him this way. Assertiveness suited him.

He made love to her in a silent, fevered desperation. She wondered if he could possibly be right about Elsa. The palace was full of her sister's sculptures. It seemed impossible that they could all be alive. Then she remembered her own suspicions, how she'd interrogated the huge ice dog in Elsa's sitting room. It hadn't blinked even after she'd poked its eyeball. She shivered. Kristoff clutched her harder, grunted twice, sighed, and rolled onto his back.

She pulled the covers up and turned to her husband. His face was still flushed. Sweat ran in rivulets down his neck. His massive chest rose and fell. He shifted his weight towards the edge of the bed, but she slid her hand into his. "Don't run away, Kris. What's going on? Tell me."

He made a face. "Isn't one revelation enough? Your sister is scattering her secret police throughout Arendelle."

"I don't believe it."

Kristoff scowled and tugged at his hand. She resisted. "No! Kris! I trust you. I do. But she's my sister."

"Your sister is barren. Another fun fact I learned today. Which means Adam will inherit the throne."

She tried to look surprised. He looked at her suspiciously and propped himself up on one elbow. "Anna, did you already know that?"

"Elsa might have mentioned something," she admitted.

He fell back onto the pillow. "Thanks for sharing," he grumbled. "General to a sterile ice queen on the edge of war. And she has a secret spy network. When did your life get so complicated?" His voice sounded funny, like it did when he was speaking for Sven. She poked him in the ribs, but he didn't respond. His eyes were staring at the ceiling like he was a million miles away.

She missed Adam. The way he cooed when she held him. The way his bright, curious eyes studied her. The way he wrapped his thin, surprisingly strong arms around her neck.

"Go play politics," she said. She cradled her belly protectively. "Just remember you have children. Don't make me raise them alone."

* * *

**Diplomacy 3.12**

Elsa ran up the palace staircase and pirouetted on the landing of the second floor. Five minutes earlier she'd been inside her ice giant as it carried her home.

The miles had flown by in a streak of green. The giant's massive steps had echoed through the forest and shaken leaves from the trees. She'd melted him at the edge of town. She could create another with a thought. She could create ten more. A hundred.

She sprinted giddily down the corridor and into her apartment. She smacked right into Rapunzel. The princess of Corona looked deliciously disheveled from the collision. Elsa decided to play it cool. She twisted a strand of her blonde hair. "Snooping, Rapunzel? We hang spies."

Rapunzel blushed. "I was only looking for you." Her brown eyes were wide and inviting. It was all Elsa could do not to pounce and push her up against the wall.

Elsa took a step forward. "A likely story," she bantered.

Rapunzel stepped backward, as though they were dancing. Her eyes darted to the floor, as through drawn by movement. She gasped and threw a hand over her mouth. Elsa looked down, puzzled, just in time to see her ice lamb stand on her hind legs and prod her front hooves against Elsa's ankle.

"Oh, Ariel!" She knelt down and carefully picked up the lamb. She felt a pang of maternal feeling for her creation's predicament. "How did you get all the way down here?" Ariel nuzzled at her fingers.

Rapunzel was staring at the lamb as though it were some horrible monster. "It's alive?"

Elsa nodded happily. "Of course, silly." She walked over to the mantle and rejoined Ariel with Leo.

"Thank you, Elsa," bleated Ariel. Leo shook out his mane and growled his appreciation as well.

"And they can talk," Rapunzel whispered. The princess went bone white.

Elsa giggled. "Don't tell Eugene." She placed one gloved finger on Rapunzel's lips.

Rapunzel's body relaxed. Color rushed back to her face. "Who?"

The hesitation Elsa had felt the previous winter vanished. She felt sure that Rapunzel was eager to be touched. She slowly ran her finger from Rapunzel's chin up to the soft hollow behind her ear.

Rapunzel shivered. "Aren't you going to kiss me?"

Elsa grinned smugly and kissed her. Rapunzel was still staring at Leo and Ariel. Elsa nipped at her delicate pink earlobe. "They turn you on, don't they? You like being watched."

"I like being watched by you," Rapunzel said. She kissed Elsa back fiercely.

They fell in a tangle onto the bed.

* * *

**Diplomacy 3.13**

Kristoff stared out his office window at the palace gardens. Birds fluttered from branch to wall, from wall to bush, from bush to branch. Most of them were made of ice. He wondered how many were living in the eaves of people's homes. While he wasn't looking, the world had changed.

A deep snort distracted him. He turned around slowly. One of Elsa's ice mastiffs was sitting on the floor directly in front of his desk. Sitting very stiffly, he noticed, almost like one of his soldiers at attention.

"Sigge, sir. My apologies for disturbing you."

The enormous dog spoke clearly and precisely. Kristoff wondered how. He knew it didn't breathe. It had neither lungs nor vocal cords. But his curiosity, briefly roused, faded just as quickly. He knew the answer. Magic. That was always the answer. It explained nothing.

Elsa's creatures weren't just uncanny. They were too silent. Too still. They gave him the creeps. Still, he tried to be polite. "How can I help you?"

"I have a report on an intercepted conversation between Mr. Eugene Fitzherbert of Corona and Crown Prince Magnus Westergaard of the Southern Isles."

There. Confirmation that the creatures were spying. And they were organized. "Why haven't you told Elsa?"

"Her majesty is otherwise engaged."

"She just infuriated every great power within a thousand miles. What could she possibly be doing?"

The mastiff scratched its nose. It almost looked embarrassed. "She is in her bedroom. With the princess of Corona, I believe. They have been alone now for some time."

Kristoff frowned. That made no sense. Unless… he laughed out loud. "Good for her."

The mastiff tilted its head as though puzzled. "Sir?"

Kristoff waved the question away. "How was this conversation intercepted? Mr. Fitzherbert may be many things, but he's no fool."

"Dietrich, sir."

"And who is Dietrich?"

"He's a mouse, sir. He was in the walls and happened to overhear."

In the walls. He'd shattered the ice swan in his and Anna's bedroom, but there could be hundreds of ice mice in the walls of the palace. It was impossible to know.

"Sir, are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Sigge. Wonderful. Give me the report. Short version."

"Both men were very unhappy with her majesty, sir. Quite firm about going to war with Arendelle."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"Sir?" The creature tilted its head again, just like a real dog. That made him even angrier.

"Never mind. Dismissed." A thought occurred to him. "No! Wait." He softened his voice. "Tell me, Sigge. Are you loyal to her majesty?"

The creature sat up even straighter. "Elsa created me. I am her child. I would do anything for her."

"Would you kill for her?"

"Of course."

"Anyone?"

"If my mother asked."

Something inside Kristoff broke. He didn't know what it was. Perhaps it would have been impossible to find, even with the most modern lenses and instruments. But it was right in the middle of him.

"Thank you, Sigge," he said carefully. "Dismissed."

* * *

**Diplomacy 3.14**

"Penny for your thoughts," said Rapunzel contentedly. Her mind, for once, was quiet. She rested her head on Elsa's shoulder. Her lover smelled of sandalwood and sweat.

"I don't understand," Elsa said. "How can you love me? I always hurt the people I love."

"Is that why…" She reached out and threaded the fingers of her right hand through Elsa's gloved fingers. She tugged slightly.

Elsa pulled her hand away. "Don't! Please."

Rapunzel took her hand again. "What are you afraid of?"

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," Rapunzel promised. "Trust me." She pinched the top of one of the glove's fingers and pulled. Elsa's breathing accelerated. Another finger of the glove. Another tug. "I believe in you, Elsa." A third tug. The glove slid free.

Rapunzel slipped her fingers back through Elsa's, but now they were skin to skin. She reveled in the intimacy. Even after making love, this felt special. Then she noticed that Elsa's ring finger was missing. Only a scarred stump remained. She asked Elsa with her eyes.

"Battle scars," said Elsa, with a hint of a smile. The queen pulled off her other glove and kissed her. She kissed Elsa back: quick kisses, feather-light, teasing Elsa and tempting her at the same time.

"I knew you wouldn't lose control," she said happily.

Elsa rolled her onto her back. She squirmed with delight, pretending to struggle. Elsa laughed and grabbed her hands, forcing them down to the bed. Rapunzel's hand struck something hard and sharp.

"Ouch!"

Elsa let go immediately. Rapunzel fumbled through their clothes and the sheets for a moment and finally retrieved the offending object. It was a small figurine, a white horse with a black horn. A unicorn. Strange memories tumbled incoherently through her mind.

"Another one of yours?" she asked foolishly, still distracted by a nameless unease.

Elsa took the figurine away from her. "Of course not," said Elsa. "It's ceramic, not ice. See?" She slid the unicorn slowly down Rapunzel's sternum, then made it canter down to her navel and then back up to her collarbone.

Rapunzel grabbed the unicorn back. "Where did you get it?" The tiny figurine was so familiar. She knew she'd seen it before. Somewhere noisy and hot.

Elsa shrugged. "Do you like it?"

"It's lovely," she said absently. Frankly, the figurine was a little tacky. The black paint on its horn was starting to flake. But she needed to own it. She didn't know why. She buried the unicorn in the bedclothes with one hand and distracted Elsa with the other. "Make me something," she pleaded. "Something really beautiful."

Elsa hesitated, then smiled. "Close your eyes." Rapunzel obeyed. Nothing happened. Then the air moved. "Now," Elsa whispered. She cautiously opened her eyes, then blinked.

A tiny ice dancer, no more than three inches tall, stood on the bed between them. She wore a simple snow dress and her translucent hair was drawn back into a knot.

"Oh, Elsa!"

"I've never gotten that to work before," said Elsa. "Arabelle, meet Puzzle."

Arabelle curtsied, so serious and graceful that Rapunzel's heart broke. She began to dance, moving across the rumpled sheets as lightly as a hummingbird.

Her precise movements hypnotized Rapunzel. She started to hear music, so soft and melancholic she didn't know if it was real. Then images appeared.

Gothel, clinging desperately to her severed golden hair as it turned brown. She saw the fear in the old woman's face for the first time. Gothel was terrified to die. The face withered and crumpled into dust.

Her own face, but younger, with a happy smile and golden hair. The golden hair darkened. The smile twisted into a frown. Wrinkles dragged down the apple blossom skin. It was now the face of Gothel. Only her own blue eyes remained. They were rheumy and wide with terror.

"Stop!" Rapunzel cried. "Stop! Stop!"

Elsa cried out. Rapunzel's eyes flew open; she must have closed them. Her fist was clenched tightly around Arabelle.

"Oh!" Rapunzel let go. Arabelle fell to the bed in pieces. A leg. A hand. Her torso was cracked, her dress crushed. Rapunzel screamed in horror. Arabelle stood. She teetered on a single leg and looked beseechingly up at Elsa.

Rapunzel began to shake. "I'm sorry! Elsa, I didn't mean—"

Elsa waved her hand. The dancer melted into the air. Rapunzel buried her head into the crook of Elsa's neck and keened, careful not to cry. She mustn't cry. Elsa held her.

The storm passed. Rapunzel drew back, still stricken with guilt. Her hair was a mess. Her nose was running. She was sure she looked hideous. She bit her lip, almost too afraid to speak. "Do you hate me now?"

Elsa shook her head. "Never."

Rapunzel placed her hand where Arabelle had stood. She could still feel the dancer's firm, slender body between her fingers. "She was so beautiful. But so delicate." She heard a noise from the mantle. "Are all your creations so easily broken?"

"Not all of them," said Elsa firmly.

"Good," said Rapunzel. She remembered Johannes beneath her, right where they were laying. "I sure hope nothing happens to the others. Cleaning accidents and whatnot."

Elsa kissed her on the forehead. "They'll be fine."

"Are you sure you'd not mad at me?"

"Mad at you?" Elsa sounded amused. "I'm grateful. With you here, I feel invincible."

She pressed her body into Elsa's. "How grateful?"

Elsa showed her.

* * *

**Diplomacy 3.15**

Rapunzel pocketed the unicorn as she left Elsa's bedroom. She felt guilty, but only for a moment. The unicorn meant more to her than it did to Elsa. It was only right for her to have it. Besides, it had a purpose to serve.

She walked straight back to her room. Her clothes were wrinkled and torn, her hair was a wild mess, and she reeked of sex. But she didn't care. Elsa's strength and confidence clung to her like a suit of armor. She felt ready to stand against all the lies and deception of a harsh world.

Eugene was just finishing packing when she burst in. She sniffed disdainfully. He was always doing servant's work. She'd tried to make him respectable, but he was still a petty criminal at heart, no matter how much of her money he managed to give to his tailors.

She brandished the unicorn figurine at him. "You want to explain yourself?"

He froze in place, one hand still buckling the clasp on the final case. The color drained out of his face. She'd never seen him so pale. She wondered if he was going to faint. He licked his lips.

"Where did you get that?"

She ignored the question, just waved the unicorn again. "Is this what I am to you?" He had the audacity to turn back to the case, finish clasping it shut. Probably buying time to figure out his next lie. "Damn it, Eugene! Flynn Ryder! Mr. Fitzherbert! Whoever you're pretending to be today, answer me! Tell me the truth. I deserve that much."

He just sneered at her. "The truth about what? I've never seen that stupid trinket before in my life!"

He didn't even have the strength to look at her. His cowardice disgusted her. What a fool she'd been, to marry such a man! She'd been so young, so naive. Her parents should never have allowed the marriage. They should have protected her, even from herself. She ground her teeth in rage.

"Is this. What I am. To you."

She waited for him to confirm her worst fears. That she was an object to him, not a person. Something defined by her beauty, or her youth, or her crown. Something to be captured and put in a case.

He stood, straining to lift the heavy case. His white face started to turn red. "I don't have time for these childish antics, Rapunzel." He tried to push past her, but she refused to be dismissed so casually. Her eyes felt hot. Eugene blurred.

"What are you doing?" he asked in a shocked voice. His bluster was gone. She doubted it had been real. It was just another mask he put on to deal with problems. How many times had she snickered over the years, watching proudly as Eugene handled other people? Now her husband was handling her. Now she was other people.

They was done. It was over. The realization choked her. She knew she wasn't supposed to cry, that it would waste what little magic she had left, but she was too devastated to control herself. Two great tears slid down her cheeks.

"Rapunzel, stop!" There was a loud thunk. He must have dropped the case. His hands gripped her shoulders. "Don't waste them!"

She laughed hysterically. "My precious tears!" She wiped them off her face and flung them at him. "There! Have the last, fading magic of the golden flower!" She tried to sound sarcastic, but her voice broke.

The unicorn. She remembered where she'd seen the figurine before. At a bar, held delicately by a mountain of a man. What was his name? Vladimir. This was Vladimir's unicorn. Flynn Ryder had sung some ridiculous song. She could hear the lyrics.

Somewhere warm and sunny,

On an island that I own,

Tanned and rested and alone

Surrounded by enormous piles of money.

Her eyes cleared. "You never loved me. I was always just a means to an end. Well, congratulations. You succeeded." She started to slow clap.

Eugene's face scrunched with alarm and confusion. "Punz…" He tried to take her by the arm, but she pulled away from him.

"Don't touch me!"

He hoisted the case again. "I don't know what you're on about, Punz," he said, "but it's time to go. We can sort it out on the ship."

Deja-vu struck her. But she was done being led around by this man. She refused to be fooled again. "Like I'm going anywhere with you."

His face darkened. "I'm through playing your little games, Rapunzel. We sail in twenty minutes. You're either onboard or you're not. Your decision."

He pushed past her and clomped down the hallway. The case banged and clattered against the steps of the staircase. She listened impatiently. Eugene was a fool. Let him break himself against Elsa's power.

The palace door slammed. She flew back to Elsa's sitting room. Elsa was looking out the window, watching the ship from Corona as it prepared to sail. Rapunzel ran to her, unable to speak. Elsa turned. Her eyes were ice. Then her arms were around Rapunzel's waist and Elsa's hot, firm lips were pressing savagely against her own.

"You know it's war?" Rapunzel nodded, still out of breath. "Are you a spy?" Rapunzel shook her head. Elsa lifted her chin with a finger. "Will you betray me?"

"Definitely."

Elsa grinned wickedly. "You talk too much."

The queen kissed her again. Rapunzel stopped trying to think. Her magic was gone. Her parents were gone. Eugene had abandoned her. But she'd found, against all odds, someone who truly cared for her. Someone who made her feel special. Someone who made her feel safe. What did war matter, against that?

She closed her eyes against the world and allowed Elsa to pull her down into the sweet, pleasurable haze of oblivion.

End of Diplomacy


	4. Invasion

**Invasion 4.1**

All that winter, reports trickled in from abroad. Their contents were always the same: the Southern Isles and Corona were preparing for war. Elsa resolutely ignored them, even as their tone became increasingly anxious, even hysterical. She knew her enemies couldn't mount a campaign until spring. She was happy to wait. She had Rapunzel.

She couldn't remember a single cloudy day that entire winter. She only remembered how Rapunzel's wide smile made her skin hiss and fizz. Invisible trumpets played. Oil lamps burned brighter.

The rest of her life seemed very drab. Events slid past, barely noticed or acknowledged.

Anna's second child arrived with a minimum of fuss. Karl looked just like his brother. Elsa oohed and aahed for the required amount of time, then ducked out to go sledding. How could cooing over an infant compare to whispering naughty nothings in Rapunzel's ear and hearing her lover giggle madly in reply as they plummeted vertiginously down the North Mountain?

Johannes quietly asked for a transfer. She gladly assigned him to the army; perhaps they could figure out how to make use of a one-armed man. She had no need for a human bodyguard. She was surrounded by hundreds of her own creations, each of whom would gladly die to protect her.

She accepted the fact that she was sterile. Barren. She felt no regret. Anna had taken two years to create two lives. She was creating a dozen a day. Every one of them was loyal and obedient.

Their devotion was contagious, especially after the destruction of Arabelle. Her death affected Elsa far more deeply than she allowed Rapunzel to realize. Her feelings developed slowly, but before long she realized the truth. They weren't just her creations. They were her children.

The palace staff quickly learned to treat the mouse Diedrich with as much respect as the mastiff Arvid. Kristoff was the only exception. He was growing surlier by the week. He seemed unsettled and upset, even after she reassured him about the approaching war by showing him her new ice soldiers. But she couldn't be bothered to care. Rapunzel would blow in her ear and the rest of the world would fade away.

She decided her children were ready for a more public presence. Her people would feel better, knowing the power she had to protect them. Soon, her children outnumbered the humans in Market Square. Her network of watchers started to report rumblings of unease. The rumblings puzzled her. She decided to give her people time to adjust to the new normal. They would figure out that she was acting in their interests soon enough.

Weeks passed like days. Once, she checked her appointment book, only to realize that the meeting with the French ambassador had been scheduled for the previous Tuesday. She sighed with relief and fled back to Rapunzel.

When she was with Rapunzel, her senses were sharper. The most mundane objects were vivid and meaningful. She heard old songs with new ears. She saw familiar sights with fresh eyes. She felt more connected every day, not only to her growing network of children, but also to every living thing.

Rapunzel's father passed away. Mr. Fitzherbert was appointed Regent of Corona. She heard rumors of division and turmoil in Weselton, but she couldn't figure out why. Not that she made much of an effort. The entire world was so fresh and beautiful that anything harsh or upsetting slipped right out of her mind.

She never told Kristoff about her confrontation with the Grand Pabbie. She doubted he even knew about her humiliation. Still, she found herself getting angry with him over trivialities. Afterwards, she would apologize profusely. Kristoff never seemed to mind. He would just go straight to the nursery and spend time with his children, especially Adam.

She knew this because she knew everything that happened in her palace. She knew most of what happened in Arendelle. During that long, halcyon winter, listening to her children's reports was the one responsibility she took seriously.

Near the end of winter, when the bravest cardinals were beginning to sing in anticipation of spring, she finally took Rapunzel to see Agnarr and Iduna. They sat together silently in the snow beneath the giant tombstones. Rapunzel rested her head against Elsa's shoulder. Elsa, in turn, leaned her head gently against Rapunzel's. The sky was blue and the air was full of potential.

"Do you remember how we met?" asked Rapunzel.

Elsa smiled. "You apologized for killing my parents."

"And you confessed to hating me," said Rapunzel. "Not the most promising of beginnings."

Elsa leapt up. "Let's try again." She yanked Rapunzel to her feet, then offered her hand in a mockingly formal manner. "Hi, I'm Elsa. I create sentient life and unwittingly freeze entire kingdoms."

Rapunzel solemnly shook Elsa's hand. "Hello, Elsa. My name is Rapunzel. I was raised in total isolation by a witch and married the first man I met."

"I'm very pleased to meet you, Rapunzel. In fact, I've already fallen in love with you."

Rapunzel giggled, breaking character. "Did you really?"

Elsa plopped back down. She pulled Rapunzel, shrieking, into her lap. "At first sight."

With Rapunzel in her arms, her fear faded away completely. It had stalked her all her life, a dark shadow lurking in her peripheral vision. Even Anna had only helped her learn how to control it. Now it was gone. For the first time she could remember, she felt totally free.

Rapunzel squirmed in her lap. "Let's do something fun," she begged. Elsa cocked an eyebrow. Rapunzel slapped her playfully on the shoulder. "Not that!"

"Not what?" asked Elsa innocently, but she was already pulling off her gloves.

A long, narrow sled formed underneath them. Huge, intricate snowflakes began to fall from the cloudless sky. Two columns of tiny bear cubs began to push the sled towards the edge of the mountain. Rapunzel gasped and clung to Elsa.

Various objects materialized in mid-air, each one appearing just in time.

The sled teetered, then plunged downward towards the rocks. Rapunzel screamed. An ice ramp materialized in mid air, launching them high into the air. The ramp melted. An ice loop appeared, whipping them through a full vertical rotation. For a single heartbeat they were upside down, held to the sled by their own momentum. The loop melted. The sled landed on a gentle slope of fluffy snow and slid to a stop at the base of the mountain.

Elsa stood, bracing herself against the rock face. She felt slightly dizzy, but flushed with exhilaration. She'd lost her gloves somewhere in the air, but she didn't care. She no longer needed them. Her control was perfect. The blizzard that had terrified Arendelle had been the work of an amateur.

She extended her right hand to help Rapunzel stand. The princess shrank back slightly. "Blood! Oh, Elsa, you've cut your hand."

Elsa swore. Rapunzel was right. Bright red blood was trickling from her palm and dripping onto the snow.

Rapunzel scrambled to her feet. "Wait!" she cried. "I need to show you something." She stooped over Elsa's hand and began to chant. The words sounded simple but Elsa couldn't hold onto them; they slipped through her mind.

A tear splashed onto the deep cut. It stung. Elsa winced. Another tear fell.

At first, nothing happened. Rapunzel cackled with triumph: "I knew it! I knew it!" Then a third tear dropped. Triumph was replaced by horror. Elsa gasped. The deep cut closed and vanished without even leaving a scar.

Rapunzel collapsed. She was crying now in earnest. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Great shuddering sobs convulsed her thin frame. Elsa was confused, but she crouched down next to Rapunzel and held her tightly.

"I'm still a magical being after all," choked Rapunzel. Her eyes were wide with despair. Elsa stroked her hair comfortingly. Rapunzel started to cry again, almost violently, as though years of tears and emotion were uncontrollably pouring out of her.

Elsa held her for a long time. Shadows lengthened. After what seemed like hours, Rapunzel shivered and stood. They walked home in silence. Elsa noticed with concern that Rapunzel was walking as though in a daze, almost mechanically.

They arrived back at the palace. "Now for a hot bath," said Elsa, hoping to cheer Rapunzel up.

Rapunzel stared dully down at her soaked shoes. "I need to be alone right now."

"Of course."

"Don't tell anyone. About my magic, I mean. It only works for people I love."

Elsa blushed with happiness. Rapunzel loved her. The offhand acknowledgement meant more than a hundred fervent declarations. "I won't," she promised. "Get some sleep. I'll check in on you in the morning."

Rapunzel barely nodded. She just shuffled into her room and closed the door. Elsa walked back to her sitting room. She couldn't figure out why Rapunzel had been so upset.

Could Rapunzel have still been holding out hope for a child? That made so sense. She'd been married to Eugene for years. She must have known she was sterile.

Maybe Rapunzel was afraid of having her power exploited. Eugene might be planning on turning her into a sort of healing machine, forced to cry endlessly over wounded Corona soldiers. But that didn't make any sense either. Rapunzel's tears only worked on loved ones. She'd said so herself.

Elsa hesitated at the door to her sitting room. A grass snake materialized, small enough to wiggle under doors. Elsa named her Lily. Lily slithered away. Elsa felt better as she watched the snake disappear down the hallway. From now on, at least one of her children would keep an eye on Rapunzel at all times.

* * *

**Invasion 4.2**

Rapunzel woke. She was shivering uncontrollably, drenched with sweat. She had once again dreamed of being chained to the wall.

She could still hear Gothel laughing in the darkness. She could still remember her desperation. She had sung the healing song, but the darkness had remained. She had reached up to feel her golden hair. It had come out in clumps.

She whimpered into her pillow, cringing as her cold, sweat-soaked nightgown clung to her back and sides. She thought about ordering candles and a bath, but the palace was so dark and silent it felt deserted. Perhaps Elsa and everyone else had left in the middle of the night and not bothered to tell her. She was all alone.

She peeled off the clammy nightgown and pulled on her warmest robe. Tiptoeing over to the windowsill, she pulled back the drapes and sat on the ledge, tucking her feet beneath her. A gibbous moon slipped out from behind a fleet of slow-sailing clouds. Beneath her, Arendelle slept. Her breath fogged the window.

The nightmare slowly slipped away and was replaced by memories of childhood. Reading in her nook. Painting. Brushing her hair. Spending time with Mother. It took a deliberate effort to remember that Gothel had been evil. She had eighteen years of memories of Mother and those memories were mostly positive. Looking back as an adult, she recognized the emotional abuse, the narcissism, the manipulation. But her memories were the memories of a child. They were naive memories, but they showed a Mother who loved her. A Mother who worried about her and wanted to keep her safe.

Had going to see the lanterns really made her life better?

She trembled at the question. She pulled her knees up to her chin and huddled deeper into her robe. Yes, she'd achieved her goal. She'd seen the lanterns. But at what cost? Mother had withered into dust. Her real parents were dead. She had fallen in love with Eugene, only to lose him. She'd even lost her hair, her glorious, shining, magical golden hair.

She'd lost everyone and everything she loved. What had she gained?

Knowledge. But everything she had learned was horrible. Mother had made use of her. Eugene wasn't half the man he pretended to be. She would never have children.

Was the truth always so bitter?

Gothel had lived for years teetering on the precipice of death. Only Rapunzel's magic had kept her alive. Rapunzel tried to imagine what it was like, always to be one day from death. No wonder the witch had locked her up in a tower!

Warm light spilled under the doorway. The knob turned. Elsa burst into the room, holding a candlestick. She thrust it towards Rapunzel inquisitively. "Just wanted to make sure you were all right."

Rapunzel squinted in the sudden light, irritated at the interruption. She'd been close to figuring out something important. Now her thoughts were hopelessly scattered. Elsa had startled them like a flock of birds.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Elsa hopped up onto the window ledge across from her. "We've had intruders." She stretched down and placed the candlestick on the floor. The flickering light threw enormous shadows against the walls. "But I'm here now. I'll protect you."

"The dangerous ice queen of Arendelle." Rapunzel tried to sound playful.

"I am dangerous. More than you know."

Rapunzel swallowed. Elsa's stern face frightened her. In the strange light, with darkness and silence all around them, it was the face of a stranger. Where was the Elsa that made her feel warm and safe?

"Good," she said breezily, hiding her fear. "Being harmless isn't a virtue. Weak queens can't keep their countries safe."

Elsa smiled faintly. "I suppose not."

"Definitely not," retorted Rapunzel. "What keeps you safe is your strength."

"That's not the same as dangerous."

"Of course it is." She was getting frustrated. Why was Elsa being so contrary? "You keep me safe from intruders. You have to be dangerous to do that."

Elsa leaned towards her. "You like that I'm dangerous," she whispered.

Rapunzel closed her eyes, trembling with anticipation. It would be just like their first kiss. Their lips met. She waited for the same electrical storm to cascade through her body. Instead, a few damp sparks fizzled and went out. She didn't understand it. Elsa's lips brushed hers again. She kissed Elsa back passionately, desperately trying to revive her desire. This time there weren't even any damp sparks.

Elsa's fingertips traced their way down her neck and crept over her breasts. Rapunzel pulled back. She opened her eyes in time to see the hurt in Elsa's face.

"Puzzle, what's wrong?"

"I'm so tired," she lied. "I just need you to hold me. Please."

"Of course."

Even though she'd gotten her way, Rapunzel felt a little disappointed with how easily Elsa had given in.

They crawled into bed together, as chaste as sisters. She laid her head on Elsa's shoulder and immediately shut her eyes, dreading conversation. It was impossible to sleep. She kept her eyes shut and breathed as evenly as possible. Her disappointment fed her unease. What was wrong with her? She loved Elsa. But Elsa's touch did nothing for her now. It made no sense.

* * *

**Invasion 4.3**

Rapunzel pretended to wake up as soon as the the room was light enough.

Elsa kissed her on the forehead, ordered breakfast, and then left. Her sudden departure left Rapunzel feeling slightly put out. Would it have been so hard for the queen to stay a while longer?

She felt like she was walking through water for the rest of the day. The simplest of tasks was impossible. She had to follow patterns in the carpets to keep from bumping into walls.

Instead, she bumped into Anna. Trailing Anna was a matronly woman. She was holding tightly onto a small boy's hand. She had a sour look on her face. Anna herself was cradling an infant. The four of them were practically a procession.

Anna smiled half-heartedly. "Rapunzel."

She looked older, tired. Her auburn hair was dry and limp. Her once rosy complexion had faded. Rapunzel almost felt bad for her friend, even though Anna hadn't made a serious effort to talk to her all winter. Then she noticed something. Hatred coiled inside her like a living thing, ready to strike.

Anna was already pregnant again. She was wearing a shapeless, unflattering dress in an obvious attempt to hide the truth, but Rapunzel could tell.

Rapunzel put on a wide smile, but her lips were pressed together tightly. "Anna! You look amazing!" She couldn't quite conceal her bitterness.

"You too! I suppose it's all that time you're spending with my sister."

"Elsa? I barely see her these days."

Anna's eyes narrowed. "Oh, really?"

"Really," lied Rapunzel desperately. "Whenever I look for her, she's behind closed doors with your husband."

"They're busy preparing for war with Corona." Anna sounded almost vicious. Rapunzel glanced yearningly past her at the empty corridor, desperate to escape.

"I'm sure Eugene will broker a peace."

"Yet your husband has a habit of making poor decisions."

Rapunzel put a hand out against the wall to steady herself. She could have taken the withering contempt. She could have taken seeing Anna with two healthy children and a third on the way. But not both. Not today.

"If you'll excuse me," she said weakly. "I'm not feeling well."

"Poor dear!" Anna clucked sympathetically. "But of course you want to meet my children. This is Karl." Anna bounced the baby a couple of times, then spoke sharply over her shoulder. "Adam, say hello to Rapunzel. She's our guest." She smiled sweetly and batted her thinning eyelashes. "Still."

Adam clung to the matron's leg. "'Ello, Puzzle," he said shyly.

Rapunzel's vision swam with hot tears at the familiar nickname. She didn't try to hide them, even though she knew Anna was smirking triumphantly. She mumbled a meaningless reply and pushed her way clear, desperate to see the one person in the world who still loved her. She needed just the smallest crumb of reassurance. Without it, she thought she might go mad.

She pushed her way into Elsa's sitting room. She heard a deep voice, but it stopped as soon as she entered. Elsa was sitting at her desk, a strange map spread out before her. Kristoff was leaning over the wall, his arms crossed. They were both staring grimly at a greyhound of ice.

"Elsa!" cried Rapunzel. She almost started crying again with relief. "I need to talk to you."

Elsa's eyes were cold. "This isn't a good time."

Rapunzel flinched. "Why not?"

Elsa didn't answer. She addressed Kristoff instead. "This is the news we were expecting. You know what to do."

"Yes, your majesty." He brushed by Rapunzel without even looking at her.

Rapunzel almost stamped her foot. "Elsa!"

Elsa stood. She opened her mouth, then closed it again and shook her head. "I can't explain," she said. "Not now. I'm sorry, Puzzle." She swept past Rapunzel. She was almost running. She hesitated at the door. "Furlong. Tell her. But only the basics." Then she was gone.

Rapunzel wanted to scream. "Tell me what?"

The greyhound's sharp claws clacked against the floor. It closed its eyes, but even then she could see it watching her through its translucent eyelids. She wrinkled her nose disdainfully. Elsa's creatures made her skin crawl.

"War," it said gravely. "Corona. The Southern Isles. They are on their way."

"What nonsense!" she retorted. "On their way where?"

The greyhound's fur rose. "I cannot say any more. I cannot—" It stopped, as though surprised. Then it melted into the air. Rapunzel stared at the floor. Not even the smallest puddle remained.

Elsa had left her alone. Again.

* * *

**Invasion 4.4**

Flynn Ryder crouched at the edge of the bluff and waited for the sun to rise. He squinted down at the dim, snow-covered plain below. The army of Arendelle had set up camp less than a mile away. He could see enemy troops marching in awkward formation between makeshift tents. Even at a distance he could tell they were rank amateurs. More importantly, they were human. There was no sign of Elsa or her monsters.

He allowed himself a small sigh of relief. There were only two practical invasion routes into Arendelle and not even Elsa could be in two places at once. Her absence meant his information had been correct; she was defending the beaches south of the palace. That left her general, Kristoff Bjorgman, to guard the mountain passes in the north.

The unpredictable snow melt made the passes treacherous in the early spring. Based on the small camp sprawled on the plains below, General Bjorgman wasn't expecting an invasion force of more than a thousand men.

He smiled with satisfaction. It felt good to be underestimated. Behind him were five thousand men, conscripted from every corner of Corona. He'd lost five hundred or so to avalanches in the passes, but in exchange he'd gained the element of surprise. He would make mincemeat of Bjorgman's amateur army. Arendelle would be defenseless by nightfall. Two days of hard marching would take him to the palace gates.

He wondered what Rapunzel would think when she saw him. Not that it mattered. He had been too soft with her. More to the point, Eugene had been too soft. But Eugene was fading away a little more every day. The times demanded Flynn Ryder.

Hans Westergaard crouched down beside him. "How does it look?"

"Just as I predicted," replied Flynn smugly. He hadn't wanted Hans tagging along, but now he was happy Hans was there. The more witnesses to his triumph the better. "Their strength can't be a quarter of our own. And there's no sign of Elsa."

"I still don't like it," Hans admitted. "She could have sent a couple creatures north with this part of her army. They could be hiding behind the line." He pointed to where the forests pushed closest to the Arendelle camp.

"We have the modified siege engines," Flynn pointed out. "You should take command of them, just in case."

Hans nodded in agreement. He ducked back to oversee assembly of the catapults. Flynn watched him go, glad the diversion had worked. With Hans behind the lines, he would get the glory for the victory. Besides, seeing the catapults at the ready, flaming with naphtha, would be good for the morale of his men.

He sent his scouts forward. They came back grinning. The army of Arendelle had their pants down. The enemy guards were playing dice. They hadn't seen any enemy scouts. They would be able to get within shouting distance before the enemy realized they were under attack. By then it would be too late.

Flynn quickly assembled his men. He jumped up onto a rock and raised his arms for attention. "No prisoners," he ordered. "Send this queen a message, boys. Hard and fast." The troops chuckled appreciatively. "We'll be drinking wine from the royal cellars by the day after tomorrow."

The drummers went to work, a deep rhythm that echoed in his blood. Then the front row of infantry trotted forward, spears and swords in hand. Flynn waited impatiently. Three hundred yards from the enemy. Two hundred. He waved the second row forward. The drum beat quickened. The third row followed at speed. He watched them with pride, three hundred men running as one, an unbroken line of sinew and steel. Fifty yards. He checked with Hans and the catapult crews, then waved to the archers. A hundred arrows were nocked. A hundred longbows were drawn.

Unease prickled his neck. He glanced down instinctively. A white rabbit was sitting in the snow not fifteen feet away, staring up at him. His blood ran cold. The rabbit's eyes were ice. Which meant…

A vise squeezed his heart. A hundred arrows arced silently over his head. He watched them fall towards the Arendelle camp. A wall of ice materialized in midair. The arrows struck the wall. Some of them stuck. The rest bounced off. A crackling boom rippled over the snowy plains and echoed off the mountains. The wall shattered into a million pieces. His men threw themselves to the ground. He could hear them shouting even over the ringing in his ears. But his eyes remained fixed directly ahead.

An enormous figure boiled out of the ground. The figure coalesced into an ice giant, as tall as the palace in Arendelle. He gasped in horror. A slender blonde woman dressed all in black was dimly visible inside the giant.

Elsa.

They had walked into a trap.

* * *

**Invasion 4.5**

Elsa hadn't realized how chaotic battles were. There was frantic, seemingly random motion everywhere she looked. Some men were running towards her. Others were running away. From her position, they looked like dots crawling, tiny and dark. She remembered when, as a child, she had broken open an anthill with a spade.

She'd ordered her countrymen to stay behind her, no matter what. They'd already served their purpose by deceiving Eugene Fitzherbert. The rest was up to her. She would either defeat her enemies, or she would be the first soldier of Arendelle to die. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if a single one of her men died. But her order also served a more pragmatic purpose. Every dot crawling beneath her was an enemy.

A large object smashed in her ice giant. He shook under the blow and almost dropped to one knee. A wave of flame roared against his chest. She braced herself against the interior ice wall. Her giant steadied himself and stepped out of the flames. She sighed with relief and hastily reinforced his armor.

Corona had almost won the war with a single blow. But how? And from where? She scanned the snow-covered plain. There! Strange contraptions were positioned on either flank of the enemy. They looked like overgrown Hercules beetles constructed of wood and iron. Eugene had brought machines.

A second enormous ball of flame roared towards her. This time her giant dodged it. But she could see the enemy scrambling frantically around the other machines. There was no time to lose. She quickly created four soldiers. They were small, only eight feet high, but nimble and quick. Two of them leapt towards the machines with inhuman speed.

She set the other two to guard the Arendelle camp. Perhaps superfluously; most of her enemies were already running back towards the mountains as quickly as they could. She let them run for now.

She created another six soldiers, twice as large as the first batch but slower, smarter. She told them who to find. Who to bring to her, alive. They trotted off towards the fleeing enemy.

With a great rending noise, Eugene's machines toppled and fell in ruins into the snow. She ordered her ice giant to step forward for a closer look. The enemy soldiers who had been operating the machines fled. Her ice giant snatched one of them up off the ground and held him up for Elsa to see. She peered forward curiously, then recoiled in shock.

It was Hans. He was struggling to escape from her giant's massive, half-closed fist. She started to laugh hysterically. This was twice now the fool had tried to kill her and failed.

Her ice giant closed his fist. Then he opened his fist. The remains of Hans Westergaard, youngest of the princes of the Southern Isles, dribbled onto the snow.

She re-assessed the battle. The enemy's machines had been reduced to burning rubble. Her six solders were still searching. Occasionally, one of them would pick up a fleeing dot, shake his head, and toss it over his shoulder.

Her ice giant broke into a jog, then a lumbering run. The ground blurred beneath her. When he stopped, she was positioned between the enemy and the mountains. Most of them stopped in horror, but some kept running, weaving around her giant's legs.

She frowned at their stupidity. If any escaped without her permission, they would tell tales of a feeble queen. They would design better machines. They would bring war back to Arendelle. That was unacceptable. Hadn't she warned them? Hadn't she tried to negotiate? But Corona hadn't listened. Now it needed to learn its lesson the hard way.

The ice giant threw back his head and roared. The earth shook. He tensed and jumped high into the air. The world seemed to pause. Then the ground rushed back up. The giant landed directly on the dark dot closest to the safety of the mountains. A great groan went up.

Her soldiers were still searching. She had to give them more time. She raised her arms. A circular wall of ice lifted out of the ground. It enclosed most of her enemies, but it was low enough that the taller of them could see over its top.

She directed her ice giant to step on every dark dot still outside the wall. They popped like grapes under his feet. A scattering of red blotches soon marred the pristine white snow that covered the open plain.

The silence was now absolute. Her giant sat down and crossed his legs. Behind the thick wall of his chest, Elsa waited patiently. Finally, the search ended. Her soldiers gathered together, formed a phalanx, and marched to the curved wall. She melted a large enough section to let them out.

They were holding a limp figure between them. They pushed him towards her and he stumbled forward. Blood covered his handsome face. His left arm dangled uselessly from a torn yet well-tailored sleeve. But he was holding his chin up proudly.

Elsa melted the giant's chest and jumped down to the ground. The snow was deeper than she'd realized. The injured man stared at her with fear and loathing.

She smiled brightly. "Hey, Eugene. Long time, no see."

* * *

**Invasion 4.6**

Flynn had an overpowering sensation of being on stage. He wondered if Elsa expected him to put on a show before he died. She wasn't going to get one, not even if her monsters pulled his arms off.

"Where's Prince Hans?" he whispered hoarsely.

"Squished."

He spat into the snow. "You murdering bitch."

Elsa crossed her arms. "You should be nicer to me," she said. "Maybe I'll spare your life."

He chuckled, then winced in pain. His arm was throbbing dreadfully. It felt strange to be distracted by pain when he knew he had only minutes to live.

"Are you mocking me, Eugene?" He heard one of her monsters come up behind him. It shoved him into the snow. His men groaned. He grit his teeth and levered himself back up using his one good arm. Elsa was looking daggers at him. He didn't try to hide his hatred as he stared back.

"Get on with it," he growled. "We both know how this ends. Make an example out of me."

"Out of you?" She gestured towards his army. "Perhaps I'll make an example out of them." Full of dread, he turned. Two of her monsters bulled their way back into the pressed throngs of his men.

Someone screamed. A general clamor erupted, swearing and shouting, but he couldn't see what was happening. The monsters reappeared. Each of them was carrying a man. Ice hands gripped human wrists. The monsters stretched their hands out to their sides. The men struggled briefly, then screamed in agony. The monsters stretched their hands further out. Then further.

Flynn's left eyelid spasmed but he refused to look away. The screaming stopped. The monsters dropped the dead to the ground in pieces.

"You should be nicer to me," Elsa repeated.

He wanted to tear her apart with his bare hands, just as her abominations had torn his men apart. He wanted to curse her for what she had done. But he didn't. He was too afraid of what she might do. His worst fears were coming true before his eyes. How could humans survive when they were faced by monsters?

"You're right," he said slowly. "This is my fault." Wasn't he supposed to be good at talking to women? This was his final exam. He had to persuade Elsa to kill just him. He hoped she wasn't already too drunk on blood.

Elsa smiled sweetly. "I'm listening."

"Remember the first night we met? Even then, I hated you. Hated your power. I plotted your destruction relentlessly. I bullied Weselton into setting up the blockade. I convinced King Westergaard to create a second front. I conscripted the men of Corona to fight you."

"And look how that turned out."

He nodded his agreement. "You're right. But was I wrong to try? Look at my soldiers," he urged. "They're men. Flesh and blood. They're hungry and cold and afraid."

"You should have left me alone!"

He ignored her. "Now look at your soldiers, Elsa. They've never hungry. Never cold. Never afraid."

"My children are better," she retorted. "Stronger."

"You're right. They're stronger than humans. Humans are weak and fragile. They get angry at the wrong time. They fall in love with the wrong person. And they fight even when it's useless."

"You invaded Arendelle! You're the bad guy!"

He smiled, as sadly and wistfully as he could. He no longer knew if he was Flynn Ryder or Eugene Fitzherbert. He no longer cared. "I'm not your enemy, Elsa. I'm their enemy." He pointed at her monsters. They were covered in blood. "Because I'm human."

"So am I!" she retorted angrily. A icicle sprouted out of the ground right at his feet and grew towards him. He didn't try to move out of its way, only twisted his boots more firmly into the snow.

"Once upon a time," he admitted. "But now? You call ice creatures your children. How many have you created? Do you give them names?" The icicle was past his knees. "What would your people think, if they knew the truth?"

"They love me! I'm loved, Eugene, which is more than you can say."

He laughed provokingly. "I suppose you're talking about Rapunzel." Elsa froze. The muscles in her neck tightened. The icicle was at his thighs. "Do you really think I don't know that you're fucking my wife?"

The icicle ripped upward, impaling him. It tore through his body and poked out of his shoulder. He screamed. The icicle didn't stop. It kept pushing higher, carrying him into the air.

He gazed down upon Elsa. Her face was white. Her hands shook. He felt sorry for her. She had traveled so far down the path of power. Too far. He doubted she would ever find her way back to the human world.

But she wasn't his problem. Not anymore. He'd won. Elsa had lost control.

A sense of peace that he hadn't felt in years washed through him. The white snow faded. The bright blue sky went black.

* * *

**Invasion 4.7**

"It's usually more responsive, your Grace," said the Earl of Morner. He tapped on the glass of the prisoner's cage, this time more forcefully.

Still no response. His lips tightened. "Stop pretending to be asleep. I don't want to hurt you again, but I will."

The chipmunk sat up slowly. It rubbed its ice paws against its whiskers. The whiskers were made of snow. They looked so delicate. He marveled that they didn't break. "That's better. Say hello to our guest."

The Duke of Weselton stooped down to stare at the tiny creature, his mustache brisling, his eyes popping behind thick wire-rim glasses. "You talk to it as though it can understand you."

"It understands every word," said the earl.

The duke laughed derisively. "You jest."

"That's a compliment I rarely receive, your Grace," said the earl.

He didn't blame the duke for being skeptical. He hadn't been willing to believe it himself. Not at first. Not until his team had performed a rigorous battery of tests had he accepted the truth. The creature was sentient. It had its own mind. Its own thoughts. Even its own emotions.

He pointed at the prisoner. "Show his grace what you can do."

The creature just stared up at him with hatred and exhaustion. Its stamina and sheer bloodymindedness were impressive. He hadn't expected that level of resistance, not after the past few weeks. But it was still resisting simple commands. He leaned forward. His lips brushed the glass.

"Go ahead," he whispered menacingly. "Embarrass me. See what happens."

"Pleased to meet you, your Grace," said the creature. Its voice was low and dignified. It even bowed slightly.

The duke's mouth flopped open. "Remarkable. And you say you caught it within the borders of Corona?"

"Inside an army barracks," the earl confirmed. "We think it was passing information back to Queen Elsa through a network of similar creatures. For months, probably."

The duke frowned. His handlebar mustache drooped. "You've caught others?"

"No. A few close misses. But most of our information has come from our little friend here."

"You trust it?"

"Certain methods, your Grace, are very useful in the search for truth."

"You're not telling me this thing can feel pain, surely!"

"Is it so hard to believe? You heard it speak, although it lacks vocal cords. We know it thinks, yet it has no brain. And it reacts to stimuli, despite having no nervous system."

He pressed a small button; instantly, the metal floor of the cage began to heat. The chipmunk screamed, a strangely savage sound, and leapt against the glass, clearly trying to cling to the smooth, unforgiving surface. It failed. It crumpled down to the floor. Again it tried to leap away from the heat. Again it failed. Its delicate snow whiskers drooped and began to melt. The earl pressed the button again.

The creature whimpered and licked its paws. The earl stared, mesmerized. There was so much he wanted to know! Unfortunately, this creature was far too valuable to take apart. If only he could capture a few more, then he would be able to do proper scientific experiments. Exposure to extreme conditions. Dissections.

The duke stroked his mustache thoughtfully. "'A network of similar creatures,' you say."

"Yes, your grace."

"Just how many of these things do you think there are?"

"There could be hundreds. Thousands."

"Impossible!" sputtered the duke. He paced back and forth in the small windowless room, his toupee bouncing with every step. His foolish pink face was flushed by the time he stopped. "Something has to be done."

"We tried the direct approach," the earl pointed out. "And look how that went."

The duke protested. "She only killed a handful of your men, along with Westergaard's boy and whatshisname, the husband. She could have massacred them all. But she didn't. Unlike that damned general of hers, Bjorgstrom."

"Bjorgman."

Elsa's victory had been shockingly swift but almost bloodless. He still didn't understand why, even though he'd interviewed many of the returning soldiers. The soldiers attributed her mercy to something Mr. Fitzherbert had done, or said. The details were vague and contradictory, but one fact was undeniable: Elsa had stayed her hand.

By contrast, Kristoff Bjorgman had encircled the army of the Southern Isles and slaughtered them. Prince Magnus and six thousand of his men had died at Veerland in the greatest massacre since Cannae.

The earl smiled grimly. Given a choice, he'd still rather deal with Kristoff. Elsa was too strong. Her power was too uncanny.

"Something has to be done," the duke repeated. He sounded like a bleating sheep. The earl decided to turn up the heat.

"If you think Elsa is so harmless, then you should be eager to negotiate with her personally."

The duke's eyes widened. "Let's not be hasty. You said the direct approach failed. What's the indirect approach?"

"Funny you should ask, your Grace."

He carefully draped a black cloth over the glass cage, then guided the duke up through the compound's seemingly endless subterranean levels. On the way, he explained the plan. The duke nervously agreed. The earl nodded imperceptibly with satisfaction. For once, Weselton was going to pull his weight.

Now he had a general to seduce.

* * *

**Invasion 4.8**

Elsa watched disconsolately as Emil and Arvid tussled on the carpet in front of the fireplace. Emil was one of her younger children, born during the battle against Corona.

She was no longer melting her children. The death of Arabelle had taught her how precious their lives were. From now on, she would protect them just as she protected her people.

Emil started vigorously rubbing Arvid's snowy belly. The mastiff was laying on his back with his tongue lolling out, vibrating with happiness. Emil glanced up at her with concern. "What's the matter, Elsa? The war's over!"

"That's just it," she told him. "All's well. Rapunzel and I should be happy."

"But?" prompted Emil.

"But we're like two pieces of an old puzzle, and the pieces just don't fit anymore."

Emil nodded. Her son was such a patient listener. He never interrupted her. He never told her what she was supposed to think. She wished the humans she knew were half as considerate.

"What do you think has changed?" he asked.

Elsa bristled, suddenly defensive. "It's not because I killed her husband. That wasn't my fault. Eugene baited me. And I only lost control for a moment. Besides, I let everyone else go!"

Emil smiled. "I know. I was there, remember?"

She blushed. "Sorry! Of course you were."

She remembered how Emil's hands, now buried in thick, snowy fur, had torn apart one of the soldiers of Corona. An unpleasant demonstration, but necessary. She might have done a bad thing, but she was a good person.

"I'm not blaming you," continued Emil. "But are you sure Rapunzel doesn't know what happened? If she does, that could explain the problem."

"Absolutely," declared Elsa. She knew none of her children would betray her.

"In that case—". Emil's hands froze mid-scratch. He pivoted towards the door just as it swung open to reveal Kristoff. His unshaven face was dark with exhaustion and his eyes were blood-shot. He glared at her son as he staggered towards the empty chair across from her.

"Emil, leave us," barked Kristoff.

Emil drew himself up stiffly. "I'm not one of your soldiers, Mr. Bjorgman," he replied. "Elsa and I were having a conversation. Which you have interrupted."

Elsa motioned him to relax. "It's all right, Emil." Looking at Kristoff filled her with dread. The hero of Veerland was hunched over like a beaten man. Something was wrong. Emil shot her one last look of concern as he left the room.

Elsa went through the list of her enemies. "Is it the Earl of Morner? He's here to sign an armistice, not cause trouble! If he's subverting my people, I'll—"

Kristoff interrupted her. "Anna's sick."

Elsa blinked. How absurd. Anna couldn't be sick. She had just given birth to her third son a few days earlier. The delivery had been an easy one. Both mother and child were healthy.

"She's burning up." His eyes were the eyes of a child, helpless and pleading. They punched through her denial. Her eyes filled with hot, unbidden tears. They tickled her cheek and splashed on her wrist.

Tears. Tears had miraculously healed the cut on her hand. She dried her eyes. All the pieces fell into place. Rapunzel loved her. She loved her sister. Tberefore, Rapunzel loved Anna. The magic would work. She jumped to her feet in exhilaration.

"Elsa, are you listening? She's asking to see you."

Elsa barely heard him. She had to find Rapunzel. They would heal Anna and reconnect at the same time. Happiness - for all of them - was only a few tears away.

* * *

**Invasion 4.9**

Kristoff held his wife's hand. Her skin was so hot he winced.

The room was empty. Elsa still hadn't arrived and he'd sent away the nursemaid. Someone needed to watch the baby. Someone needed to watch Sven.

Anna had looked so delighted as she told him the name she'd chosen in memory of his friend. Now she was pale and flushed at the same time, slipping in and out of consciousness. The bed was soaked with sweat. Occasionally she moaned and moved her limbs restlessly, as though every position was equally uncomfortable.

He knelt down next to the bed. He clasped his hands together, bent his head, and prayed. His lips moved with words he barely remembered. He prayed not for mercy, or for a miracle, but only that he be allowed to suffer in place of his wife.

He called to mind every one of his sins, every horrible thing he'd ever done. Abandoning Anna at the gates of the palace, when she was at the edge of death. Saying nothing to Elsa as their pykrete boat glided from one Weselton ship to the next. Watching silently as Elsa lost her humanity one step at a time.

The guilty were supposed to be punished, not the innocent. Anna was innocent. He was guilty. He was the one who deserved to burn. It was his right to burn.

Anna's eyes fluttered open. "Elsa?" The same question. Always the same.

"On her way," he said reassuringly. "Try to get some sleep." Her eyes closed again. She mumbled something, but he couldn't make it out. He squeezed his eyes shut and once again listened to the screams of the Weselton sailors.

A breath of air made him turn. Elsa slunk into the room like a whipped dog. The queen was always pale. Now she barely looked human. She approached the bed with small, timid steps.

"I was wrong," she stammered. "I thought she could. But she can't."

She knelt down beside him and clasped Anna's hand. He wondered if Elsa, who had never felt the cold, could feel the heat beating off her sister's skin. He doubted it. He doubted she felt anything.

"Kris," said Anna. She struggled to sit up, panting with the effort. Her breathing was dry and ragged. Her eyes didn't focus properly. "Sven. Is Sven safe?"

"He's safe," said Kristoff.

"Good." She sounded relieved. "I need you to tell Elsa something, when she comes."

"I'm right here, Anna," Elsa cried.

Anna didn't blink. "Tell her that it's her choice. Promise me, Kris."

He didn't want to respond. If he said nothing, then nothing could happen. The moment, painful as it was, would last. "I promise."

Anna sank back down onto the pillow. "That's right," she said, as though to a small child who had solved a simple arithmetic problem. The ragged breathing stopped.

"Anna," said Kristoff dumbly. "Don't leave me. Anna, my darling. Anna. Don't leave me, Anna. Anna. Anna."

* * *

**Invasion 4.10**

Elsa threw open the door to Rapunzel's room. It was as messy as ever, but empty. She checked the other bedrooms, then the dining room. A new oak table sat there, a silent reprimand. She checked the kitchens. Rapunzel wasn't there. She wasn't in the gardens, or in Market Square. Elsa started towards the docks.

Arvid dashed up. "We found her."

He led her out of Arendelle and down a dirt road into one of the poorer outlying areas. The homes here were poorly constructed. They stank of neglect and despair. Elsa made a mental note to have her children tear them down and build new ones. They turned a corner and she stopped abruptly.

Rapunzel was standing in the middle of the road, staring at an abandoned house. She looked so ridiculously out of place that it took Elsa a moment to recognize her. For the first time in months, she saw the princess of Corona clearly.

She was as beautiful as an autumn rose, slim and erect. The setting sun applied auburn highlights to her short brown hair. Her eyes were large, her nose small, and her skin was smooth and clear.

Yet Rapunzel looked hollow. The life and energy that had attracted Elsa so powerfully over the years had faded. All that was left was a brittle hardness. Fire had dwindled to cold ash. Smile lines had been replaced by the creases of a frown.

Elsa walked up to her. They stared in silence at the rotting house. Elsa could see right through the single room to the forest on the other side. Two ice sparrows were perched on a moss-covered beam that protruded from the roof. One of them ruffled its ice feathers and flew off over their heads.

Rapunzel crossed her arms. "Well?"

Her tone was defensive, almost hostile. Elsa marveled at the change. An hour earlier, she'd been kneeling in front in Elsa, clinging desperately to her dress and sobbing bitterly, endlessly repeating the same words. I can't. She'd acted as though simple repetition would help Elsa understand.

Elsa hadn't understood. She didn't understand now. Rapunzel hadn't just insisted she couldn't save Anna. She'd refused to even try. She'd simply knelt at Elsa's feet, as wet and heavy as a used sponge.

"Anna's dead."

She expected Rapunzel to start crying again, or collapse to the ground, or laugh hysterically. But her lover didn't show any emotion. She barely reacted at all. She looked more like an ice queen than Elsa had ever felt.

"It's my fault," said Rapunzel. "That's what you're thinking. Isn't it?" She made it sound like an accusation.

"I don't know what to think, Puzzle."

Rapunzel face tightened with anger. "My tears barely healed that scratch on your hand!"

"You could have tried."

Rapunzel chuckled sarcastically. "Wow," she said. "I'm really feeling the love today."

Elsa replied automatically. "Of course I love you."

"You never loved me."

Elsa impatiently nudged a stone with her toe, then kicked it through a gap in the wall into the abandoned house. It rattled to a stop somewhere out of sight. She turned to leave. In a flash, Rapunzel was embracing her, clinging to her as though Elsa were a life raft.

"I'm sorry," said Rapunzel. She kissed Elsa frantically. "I'm sorry, Elsa. I didn't mean it."

Elsa shrank back in horror. Rapunzel had transformed into an old woman, shriveled and bent with age. Elsa tried to pull away, but that only made Rapunzel hang on tighter. Wiry arms latched around her neck. Wrinkled lips puckered, pecking at her face with a dry desperation.

Strong hands forcibly separated them. Rapunzel fell back, panting. Elsa wiped her mouth. It was Gunnar, one of Emil's brothers. Her son bowed. "My apologies for the interruption, your majesty, but there's trouble to the south. In Bergheim."

Elsa tried to hide her relief. "What kind of trouble?"

"A warship bombarded the port early this morning, then sailed back out to sea. It was flying a French flag, but the ship looked like a Weselton design."

Elsa silently thank her son. He had provided her with the perfect excuse. She turned to Rapunzel. "I do love you, but I have to go."

Rapunzel looked young and beautiful again, but Elsa barely noticed. She was already designing a better pykrete boat. "Gunnar, with me."

* * *

**Invasion 4.11**

Kristoff knelt at Anna's side, long after Elsa left.

Several of Elsa's creations appeared. They had orders to get the body. They said it so casually. He had to restrain himself from physically attacking them.

He had helped his soldiers bury the dead after Veerland. The spring earth had only recently thawed, but his men were used to cutting through ice and wood. Each burial had been a ritual, part of the healing process. The bodies of his men had been treated with respect. Afterward, he'd felt better. Now his wife was being carried away like a sack of potatoes.

They told him the funeral would take place tomorrow. They told him he wouldn't be needed until then. He nodded. He couldn't think of anything else to do.

He walked to the nursery slowly. He needed to tell his children. Adam, at least, was old enough to understand. But how do you tell a three year-old his mother isn't coming back?

He refused to lie.

There was a confusion of noise. His feet hadn't carried him to the nursery but to Market Square. His eyes followed the movements of shoppers, but he couldn't focus on anything. What was he doing here? He had responsibilities to take care of. He should go back to the palace.

He didn't move. His feet felt rooted to the paving stones. The bustling crowds spilled around him.

Someone tugged at his sleeve. A small boy was grinning up at him. Kristoff absently offered him a penny. The boy shook his head, grinned some more, and pointed towards the docks.

"Someone is waiting for you, sir."

Kristoff smiled, despite everything. The boy reminded him of himself at that age: eager and innocent, despite a hard life. "Does this someone have a name?"

"An old friend, sir."

Kristoff found himself wondering who was waiting at the docks. He'd never made friends easily and Johannes had died at Veerland. "Try again, son."

The boy coughed meaningfully. He opened and closed his fist for a split second. Kristoff caught only a glimpse of the pin the boy was holding, but he remembered the coat of arms. He remembered the man who had worn it.

The boy led him to an obscure corner of the harbor. A weathered sloop rocked gently in a nondescript slip. A shabby man was sitting on the pier, eating an apple with a knife. His bare feet dangled close to the water.

Kristoff approached carefully. The boy had vanished. "My Lord."

The Earl of Morner cut off another slice of apple. "Better to talk inside," he said. "Too many eyes." He hopped to his feet, swung himself onto the sloop, and disappeared down a short flight of stained steps. Kristoff followed. The cabin of the sloop was dim and quiet. He could hear only the faint lapping of the water against the hull. The earl shrugged off his dilapidated coat and sat down at a small table. It was bolted to the floor.

"Do you remember our last conversation?"

"I remember," said Kristoff. "You were concerned about who would succeed King Frederic." He coughed apologetically. "I was sorry to hear of his passing."

The earl bowed his head in acknowledgment. "Thank you. Please, allow me to extend my condolences in return. Your wife was an admirable woman."

Kristoff's eyes narrowed. "News travels fast."

The earl carefully laid both the knife and the half-eaten apple to the side of the table. Kristoff watched him expectantly.

"King Frederic of Corona is dead, rest his soul." The earl raised a finger. "Mr. Fitzherbert is dead." He raised a second finger. "The sole heir to the throne of Corona is currently living in the palace of Arendelle where she is enjoying, shall we say, a close personal relationship with the woman who murdered her husband." A third finger. "More to the point, the princess Rapunzel is unable to bear children." A fourth. "But Corona must have a king." The earl clenched his fingers into a fist and stared at Kristoff. "A man with children. A soldier."

Kristoff blinked. The very idea was preposterous. He must have misunderstood. "You can't be serious."

The earl raised one eyebrow coolly. "Can't I?"

"I'm not even a citizen of Corona! Are you so desperate that you have to offer the throne to a foreigner? The nobility must be lining up."

"Peacocks." The earl dismissed them with a snort. "We need a military man. We need the hero of Veerland."

Kristoff shifted uncomfortably. "My men deserve the credit."

"You're too modest, Mr. Bjorgman. We need a king with another skill as well. One even more important than military genius."

"And that is?"

"We need a warrior king who can keep us out of war."

Kristoff frowned. "The war's over. Or haven't you noticed?"

"Wars don't end so easily. Not so long as an imbalance of power remains. Do you understand?"

He understood. Finally. All of his previous interactions with the earl fell into place. The hints and innuendo. He should have seen right from the start. "Elsa," he replied heavily. "You want me to fight Elsa."

The Earl shook his head. "That's impossible. We want you to not fight Elsa."

"That should be awfully easy," said Kristoff bitterly.

He saw again the tiny pykrete boat skimming silently through the thick fog and the last of the Weselton blockade ships appearing like an onrushing shadow. He heard the screams.

He hadn't understood. Not fully. The fog had always obscured the horror. But for the last ship, Elsa must have wanted to watch. She lifted the fog. Only then did he learn the truth. She hadn't just been crippling the blockading ships. She'd been destroying them with a behemoth, a monstrous octopus, each of its hook-lined arms longer than the ship.

He'd watched in terror as the monster had gripped the hull of the final Weselton ship. Its great beak had cracked the hull like a nut. Its arms had torn the ship to pieces. Then the monster had melted away, still staring at him malevolently, its translucent eyeball the size of a man.

"I've watched the murder of a hundred men without saying a word."

The Baron's brow furrowed. "I don't understand."

Kristoff didn't expect him to. "I have three sons. I'm not about to suicide."

"We're not asking you to turn traitor. Corona wants peace. A separate peace, to be blunt. You're the only man who can get it for us."

Kristoff scoffed. "You really think she'd let her nephews leave Arendelle?"

"No. Just you."

Kristoff rose abruptly. What the earl wanted was impossible. His children had already lost their mother. He wasn't about to abandon them as well. "You're wasting your time. And I need to get back to the palace."

"Of course. The earl bowed his head. "My apologies. If you'll permit me to accompany you." He reached for a battered old cap that was hanging on a nail.

That was a terrible idea. One of Elsa's spies was sure to see them. "I know the way."

"Indulge me." The earl slipped on the cap and subtly rearranged the muscles of his face. He looked like a completely different person. They walked back towards the palace.

At the edge of Market Square the earl stumbled and fell. Kristoff crouched down to help. The earl covered Kristoff's eyes with his hands. "Look again!" he said urgently. He lowered his hands. "This time with new eyes."

Kristoff wondered what he was supposed to be looking at. He walked through Market Square almost every day. He would have noticed anything unusual. He glanced around half-heartedly. The square was full of stalls. Perfectly normal. The customary shoppers were moving between them. Also normal.

He kept looking. Slowly, he began to notice small changes, discordant notes in what should have been a familiar tune. There were fewer stalls than he remembered. Two of Elsa's creations were talking to one of the merchants; the merchant looked frightened. Ice soldiers, taller than any normal man, were clustered in groups, silently watching. The shoppers, who were normally eager to stop and gossip, were walking quickly. They kept their eyes down.

He started to see ice animals everywhere. Jackdaws peered down from the trees. Pigeons perched on the roofs of stalls. Bulldogs and pit bulls strode in the shadows near the walls, their eyes bright and unblinking. He even thought he saw a translucent rat creep under a bin.

When had this happened?

He already knew the answer. One day at a time.

A police state had grown up in Arendelle right in front of his eyes, but so slowly he hadn't even noticed. Tyranny, like a glacier, had forged its path inch by inexorable inch.

He cursed his blindness. The truth was obvious in hindsight. Hadn't he witnessed some of Elsa's earliest creations? He'd seen her sparrows spying in the palace gardens. He'd smashed the eavesdropping swan she'd placed in her own sister's bedroom.

The earl stood and brushed some dirt off his shabby coat. "Is this the Arendelle you remember?"

The truth was obvious but hard to admit. "She's just watching over her people," he said defensively.

The earl pursed his lips. "Remind me, Mr. Bjorgman. Which are her people?"

Kristoff's heart sank. Her people weren't the cowed merchants, or the fearful shoppers. Her people were the watching creatures. Her people were the lurking soldiers. Her children were made of ice. And every day there were more of them.

* * *

**Invasion 4.12**

Elsa sat at her desk, exhausted. Midnight rain drummed steadily on the window behind her.

She'd just gotten back from escorting a merchant convoy to Schleswig. She hadn't slept in three days. All she wanted to do was lay her head on the table and pass out, but a thousand urgent problems demanded her attention.

She yawned so hard her jaw ached. "Arvid, would you mind running down to the kitchens and ordering me a cup of coffee?"

"Of course, your majesty."

The steady white noise of the rain was lulling, almost hypnotic. Her eyes closed for a long, delicious moment. She forced them open. "Better make that a pot," she corrected. But the mastiff had already disappeared.

The crisis at Bergheim was supposed to have been a one-off, but as soon as she returned to Arendelle word had arrived that several of her new mills had burned down. She had tried to track down the arsonists, but their trail had gone cold. Then, even before she made it home, her messengers had brought reports of merchant vessels being attacked at sea.

She'd ended up jumping from one crisis to the next. Days had blurred into weeks. There was never enough time to sleep. Whenever she was about to get a break, another crisis would appear, demanding her attention, distracting her from her other responsibilities. She hadn't so much as seen Rapunzel. She hadn't even made it to Anna's funeral. Her eyes drifted shut again.

She was standing at the edge of a freshly dug grave. A coffin lay nestled at the bottom. Rain beat against it. Kristoff held Adam's hand on the other side of the grave. The small boy stared at her. Rain plastered his dark hair to his forehead and ran down his face. His eyes were wide.

He pointed at her accusingly. "Killer."

Elsa awoke with a start. Something was brushing against her leg. It was Arvid. He prodded her gently with his nose. Emil set a large mug of steaming coffee in front of her. She reached for it with relief.

Emil cleared his throat. "We had some disturbances while you were away, your majesty."

She took a grateful sip. "Mmmm."

"Nothing serious. A few disgruntled citizens. Easily dispersed."

She nodded blearily. Her eyes closed again. She was standing on a snow-covered plain. Blood dripped at her feet. The heavy drops splashed loudly in the clear air. She looked up. Eugene Fitzherbert was staring at her. Blood dribbled from his mouth.

Eugene pointed at her. "Murderess."

She startled awake. Kristoff was watching her from across her desk. Arvid and Sigge were gently snoring by the fireplace. Emil was gone. She took a sip of her coffee. It was cold. "How long have you been sitting there?"

"I didn't want to disturb you."

She studied her general. He looked tired. Worse, he looked incomplete, as though he were missing some fundamental piece. She didn't need to be a detective to know which one. "You don't want to disturb me," she echoed. "Yet here you are."

He shifted evasively in his chair. "Do you remember when I asked for your permission to propose to Anna?"

She nodded. "I remember how nervous you were."

Kristoff shrugged. "Can you blame me? You were this powerful queen. A stranger. And I was a peasant, comfortable only when I was talking with Sven."

She tried to follow what he was saying, but her eyes were growing heavy again. If only he would leave her alone! She might still be able to grab an hour of sleep before dawn. She decided to cut the conversation short. Whatever he wanted couldn't be that important. The war, after all, was over.

"What do you want permission for this time?"

He dodged the question. "Eugene Fitzherbert is dead."

"I know," she replied acidly. "I killed him."

"King Frederic died last year. Corona wants me to assume the throne."

Elsa chuckled at the absurdity. "Rapunzel may have something to say about that."

Kristoff shook his head. "She can't have children. They won't have her."

She was awake now, and getting angrier. "Who told you that?" She ran through the possible suspects. It had to be the Earl of Morner. She cursed silently.

"It doesn't matter who told me," Kristoff said. "It's true." He paused and looked embarrassed. "I know how close the two of you are—"

"She's my lover." A lie. She and Rapunzel hadn't slept together in months. Not since before Anna had died.

He didn't sound surprised. "That's none of my business."

"Yet you ask me for permission to usurp her throne."

He wouldn't meet her eye. "I'm not asking for permission this time, Elsa. I'm asking for your blessing."

She snorted. "All grown up, I see. Why should I give it?"

Finally he looked at her. "Because I'm your friend," he said. His face was so familiar, open and earnest. "Because we're both tired of war and this will ensure the peace. Elsa, don't you want a friend and ally on the throne of Corona?"

She did. She really, really did. Especially now that some mysterious enemy was driving her half-mad with fatigue and frustration. And she knew she could trust him. He didn't hate her, like Mr. Fitzherbert. He wasn't obsessed with conquest or colonies, like King Westergaard and his wretched sons. He wasn't sly and calculating, like the Duke of Weselton. He was honest. He had common sense. He would make a good king.

And if Kristoff became king of Corona, then Rapunzel could stay.

"Very well," she said. "You have my blessing. But your sons are my heirs. They'll need to be raised here in Arendelle."

"I'll visit every year," he promised. "My children will know their father." He rose to leave.

"Wait! Kristoff!" She was suddenly frantic. He turned. Her voice dropped, beseeching. "What do I tell Rapunzel?"

Kristoff smiled wistfully. "I doubt she wants the throne," he said. Then he was gone.

She stared at the door. He hadn't understood. That hadn't been her question at all. Dread and loneliness filled her. She desperately wanted to tiptoe down the hall and snuggle up to Rapunzel. She could already feel the drowsy heat of the bed, the blanket's comforting weight. Rapunzel would find her hand in the dark and sigh with satisfaction.

Then, tomorrow, she would confess to having murdered Eugene.

She imagined the scene. She would throw herself at Rapunzel's feet, grab her hand, and kiss it passionately. Rapunzel would pretend to be upset. Elsa would kiss her palm, then her wrist. Rapunzel would snatch her hand away. Elsa would pull Rapunzel down and kiss her properly. Rapunzel would struggle at first. Then her fists would slowly unclench. She would sigh and pull Elsa into her arms.

Gunnar walked into the room, disrupting her daydream. His translucent body dripped with rain. "There's been another attack," he said gravely. "Six fisherman, kidnapped. We need your help right away."

Elsa closed her eyes in despair.

* * *

**Invasion 4.13**

Rapunzel stared into the darkness of the palace corridor. Her ear was pressed tight to the door of Elsa's sitting room. She heard Kristoff rise. She recoiled, terrified that he was about to catch her eavesdropping. Then she heard Elsa's voice, loud and clear.

"Wait! Kristoff! What do I tell Rapunzel?"

She didn't stick around to hear the answer. Running on her toes, she darted back to her room. She dove under the covers, pulled her knees up to her chest, and began to shake uncontrollably.

Flynn was dead. Elsa had murdered him.

She shivered and rubbed her arms. No wonder Elsa had been avoiding her. No wonder Elsa leapt at every chance to get away. Elsa hated her.

She was boiling. She couldn't breathe. She leapt out of bed. Raindrops hammered monotonously against the windows. Dark clouds covered the sky. She could barely see her hand in front of her face. She paced blindly back and forth. Six steps to the wall. Her fingertips brushed against its cool, indifferent surface. Turn. The hammering of the rain grew louder. Six steps to the wall. She tripped and fell. The darkness swirled around her. She wondered if she was going mad.

There was nothing left for her in Arendelle.

She had to get back to Corona. She tried to picture the familiar sights of home but failed. Her parents were dead. Her husband was dead. The Earl of Morner and the other courtiers hated her. They'd always hated her. And now Kristoff was on his way to sit on her father's throne.

There was nothing left for her in Corona.

Dizziness and nausea. She retched, great gasping spasms, but her stomach was empty and nothing come up except for her own bile, bitter as the truth. There was nothing in her. She was barren and hollow and worthless.

She pressed her hot forehead against the cool floor. She had to stay in Arendelle. Elsa had killed Flynn out of jealousy. That was the only possible explanation. Elsa didn't hate her. Elsa still loved her, loved her more than ever. She might had lost everything else, but she still had Elsa.

She tried to laugh in order to reassure herself, but her throat hurt too much. She swallowed painfully and staggered back to bed, closing her eyes tightly against the dark. Soon it would be morning. Soon it would be tomorrow. Everything would be better then. Elsa would be there.

End of Invasion


	5. Peace

**Peace 5.1**

Kristoff looked at the Earl of Morner incredulously, then wiped the sweat off his forehead again. He refused to believe what he'd just heard. "Can you repeat that?"

They were standing together at the top of the tallest tower of the royal castle. From this height, he could see the entire capital of Corona. The island was densely packed with houses and churches, plazas and piazzas. In the distance, he could see the only bridge to the mainland. It looked like a shimmering strand of spider silk, stretching over an expanse of blue water that sparkled and winked in the sunlight.

"Don't look so shocked," said the earl. He looked cool and collected, even in the withering, unnatural heat. "Your loyalty to Elsa is cute. Admirable even. But you know she has to die."

Kristoff tried to protest. "She doesn't want war! Mr. Fitzherbert was obsessed. And the Southern Isles was hoping to reclaim a lost colony. They've paid the price for their hubris. Why can't we just leave her alone?"

The earl gestured towards the circle of braziers that ringed the edge of the tower, encircling them in flame. "Perhaps you're stupider than I realized, Mr. Bjorgman. You've seen her creatures. Yet you refuse to acknowledge the truth."

"What truth?"

"She doesn't consider them creatures," the earl said. "She thinks they are her children."

He crossed his arms obstinately. "That doesn't mean she wants to replace us."

The earl eyed him thoughtfully. "Elsa's creatures. If you prick them, do they bleed?"

"No."

"If you tickle them, do they laugh?"

"No."

"If you poison them, do they die?"

Kristoff wiped the sweat off his forehead again. This was absurd. He had reassured Elsa of his friendship less than a week ago. Now the Earl was trying to force him to admit that she was an existential threat to the human race. "If we just talk to her—"

"Stop." The Earl cut him off. "Just stop, Kristoff. You told us yourself how she's isolating herself from humans. You've talked to the soldiers who watched her tear apart their comrades. You've heard the descriptions of her monsters."

Kristoff blinked back tears. He'd been so proud of Adam when they'd said their goodbyes. He had ruffled his son's hair. The boy had stood up straight and promised to look after Karl and Sven until Kristoff returned. Now he wondered if he ever would.

"You should have told me this before I came here," he said huskily.

"We needed to be sure of you."

"And now you are." He glanced again at the slender, silver bridge. "I'm trapped."

"You are the king," said the earl. "Founder of the House of Bjorgman. Hundreds of years from now, when we are all forgotten, your line will remain and your sons' sons will sit on the throne of Corona."

"My sons are in Arendelle, right under Elsa's nose! You're asking me to risk their lives."

The earl shook his head. "I'm asking you to save them. How long before the last human is expelled from Elsa's palace?"

Kristoff pictured his sons, raised by creatures of ice. He couldn't let that happen. "I won't kill Elsa," he said stubbornly.

"We're not asking you to."

"Good." He sighed, accepting the inevitable. "You mentioned a war of attrition, aimed at Elsa personally?"

"With Weselton's assistance," confirmed the earl. "We believe the psychological toll is significant."

"Wearing Elsa down isn't sufficient," Kristoff pointed out. He frowned, thinking. "We need to exploit her weakness."

"Which is?"

"Fear."

"Self-destruction," said the earl approvingly. "But how?"

Kristoff squinted out at the blue water, as though if he stared hard enough he could see all the way to Arendelle. "The same way you topple any fortress. You remove its supports."

Rapunzel. The princess of Corona was the key. He just needed to figure out a way to get her to come home.

* * *

**Peace 5.2**

Rapunzel stared at the table and listened to Elsa butter her toast.

The knife clinked against the tureen. Scrap scrap scrap. Then it clinked against the tureen again. Chew chew chew. Elsa's teacup slid excruciatingly slowly across the saucer. Sip slurp sip. Then it slid across the saucer again. The sounds were too loud. She wanted to cover her ears. She wondered if she was going mad.

Elsa cleared her throat. "Have you been having fun while I was gone?"

Rapunzel didn't look up. "Not exactly."

She'd tried playing with Adam, but he'd ignored her completely. Karl had smiled at her once, but Adam had immediately called his brother away. That was the end of that. Even Sven had cried in her arms, a cry of bewilderment and rage that had made her flush and quickly hand him back to the wet nurse. The rotund woman hadn't bothered to hide her pleasure at Rapunzel's discomfort.

Then there were Elsa's creations. They were always watching her, but they never talked. She had tried to strike up a conversation only once. The translucent woman had smiled gently and put a finger to her frozen lips. Rapunzel hadn't tried a second time.

She thought about telling Elsa, but she knew Elsa wouldn't listen. Even in Elsa's questions she heard the effortless contempt that strength has for weakness. Elsa probably thought she was spending her days eating chocolates and looking in the mirror. Instead, she was isolated and alone, cut off from human contact. At least as a child she'd had Gothel.

"I was so lonely, Elsa. Why did you leave me alone?"

Clink. Sip. Clink. "I'm sorry I couldn't be here to amuse you."

Rapunzel winced. A hundred comebacks sprang to mind, demanding to be said. She tried to ignore them. She didn't want to hurt Elsa. She didn't want to poke Elsa just to get a reaction. But she had to. The weak were cursed to search for the pressure points of the strong. It was a question of survival.

"You're so hurtful, Elsa. Sometimes I think you enjoy it."

Elsa rolled her eyes. "Don't get all dramatic."

Rapunzel felt nauseous. It had been like this with Eugene, near the end. Perhaps all relationships were destined to follow the same path, no matter how hard the people involved tried to avoid it.

"I see," she said disdainfully. She wanted to kneel at Elsa's feet and start again, but the momentum of her emotion was too powerful. She couldn't resist. "You've stopped even pretending to care about me."

Elsa's knife clattered against her plate. Rapunzel jumped. "Yes," said Elsa sarcastically. "That's why I asked you to live here. That's why I hold you when you can't sleep. Because I don't care."

"You're ashamed of me."

"That's ridiculous."

"You are," Rapunzel shot back. "I embarrass you. That's why you haven't told anyone about me."

"I told Kristoff."

"For your own reasons. Not because you love me."

"That's not true," replied Elsa calmly.

She realized with a sinking heart that her earlier fear had been wrong. Elsa didn't hate her. No, it was far worse than that. Elsa didn't feel anything for her at all. She didn't even care enough to get angry. The knowledge filled her with despair. Her voice broke. "Can't you even say you love me?"

"I love you."

The words meant nothing. She'd had to drag them out. Her face tightened with displeasure and unhappiness.

Elsa sighed peevishly. "Why do you bully me into saying it, Puzzle? Why can't you wait for me to say it?"

Hearing her old pet name made her eyes burn. Wasn't she supposed to be finding Elsa's weaknesses? Instead, she was the one breaking down. "It's been months, Elsa! You left me alone for months!"

"I've been protecting my people."

"You love them more than you love me."

Elsa didn't say anything. The silence stretched, unbearable. Rapunzel stared at her empty plate, as though somehow it could answer her questions. Once upon a time, she'd been happy, swinging on her long, blonde hair. What had gone wrong?

She knew the answer. She'd gotten into the habit of being used. First Gothel had used her, absorbing her magic to cheat death. Then Eugene, pretending he loved her when he only loved her beauty and wealth. Elsa was just the latest, sleeping with her one moment, casually abandoning her the next.

She'd left her husband for Elsa. Her parents. Her home. Everything. She'd been happy to lay her whole life at Elsa's feet, because she trusted Elsa to love her as much as she loved Elsa.

And Elsa didn't. Not really. It was easy to love someone when they gave you everything and demanded nothing. But now, when she timidly asked for the teeniest, tiniest scrap of Elsa's attention, Elsa responded with cool contempt.

She wiped away her tears and looked up, only to shrink back in horror. Elsa had transformed into a stranger, all sharp edges and suspicion. She sucked all the warmth out of the room. Rapunzel saw, for the first time, the ice queen that had terrified Eugene into obsession.

She was afraid, but at least she understood her fear. It was the fear the weak always felt around the strong. It was why she had been mesmerized by Elsa in the first place. The weak watched the strong. They studied the strong in order to know what the strong required of them. When they had to flatter. When they had to seduce. But the weak could never be at ease in the presence of the strong. They could never relax. Not if they wanted to survive.

All that focus. All that tension. It was no wonder she had mistaken it for love.

She looked at the ice queen of Arendelle with new eyes. She could hardly believe this woman had ever held her or whispered in her ear the words of love. Her resolve returned. She felt colder and harder than any of Elsa's creatures.

She stared at Elsa, not bothering to hide her hostility. "Aren't you going to say anything?" It was practically a challenge.

Elsa reached under the tablecloth and pulled out several folded sheets of paper. They were stamped with the great seal of Corona. She tossed them at Rapunzel.

Rapunzel read the letter slowly, her heart pounding. Kristoff wanted her help. More importantly, the people of Corona needed her. She was their princess. Kristoff begged her to listen to their pleas.

She glared at Elsa. "You opened my mail!"

"A letter from a king isn't just mail, Rapunzel."

Tears of rage blurred Kristoff's careful penmanship. Elsa had known this entire time. She'd let Rapunzel pour her heart out like a little fool. She kept her voice even with a stomach-clenching effort. "You can't wait to get rid of me."

Elsa shook her head. "I want you to stay."

"Don't lie to me!"

"It's the truth."

Rapunzel scowled. She hated that word. She hated its smug sanctimony. Only the strong were secure enough to care about the truth. The weak were too busy staying alive.

She missed Corona desperately. Why had she wasted her best years trying to melt the heart of the queen of ice? Elsa didn't love her. Elsa didn't know how to love. She was too strong to understand love. Love meant being weak. Love meant being vulnerable. At least Kristoff was willing to beg.

Kristoff was waiting for her in Corona. Her people were waiting for her. She would never be alone again.

* * *

**Peace 5.3**

Elsa watched as the ship sailed out of the harbor of Arendelle and down the mirror-still blue waters of the fjord. She half-expected it to tack around and come back, as though her desire could reach out through the summer air to pull ropes and wind winches. For a single, incandescent moment she thought about freezing the ship in place and freeing it only when Rapunzel agreed to return.

The ship was almost at the horizon. It entered the open sea, slipped around the edge of a cliff, and was gone.

Snow started to fall on Arendelle.

She had made snow angels once with Rapunzel. The snow had been dry and powdery, easily pushed. Rapunzel's cheeks had glowed in the cold. She'd asked Rapunzel what being cold felt like. Rapunzel had giggled and kissed her. She wondered if she'd ever see Rapunzel again.

She walked back through Market Square in her shirt sleeves, unconscious of the vendors frantically packing away their merchandise. She brushed past shoppers but only saw their shoes. Whispered conversations died as she approached. She couldn't be bothered to care. Anna was dead. Rapunzel had abandoned her. Every tie that bound her to the world was gone.

A small child gaped up at her in wonder, then was yanked away with a muffled curse. She looked up long enough to see fear in the mother's eyes. She quickly fixed her eyes back on the ground. The pavement stones were already buried by six inches of snow, wet and heavy.

She felt a vague sense of guilt as she watched the snow pile up, then remembered it was July. She waved her hand. The snow fell on, unperturbed. She clenched and unclenched her fists, then tried again. Again she failed. Old fears returned. She rubbed at the stump of her severed finger for the first time in ages.

She ran the rest of the way back and pounded up the staircase. Arvid was sleeping on the hearthstone. Her desk was piled high with new stacks of unread reports. She searched frantically between the piles. A corner of white cloth caught her eye. She grabbed her gloves with a sigh of relief and pulled them on.

The gloves had been a present from Anna. She could hear her sister whispering: "I think these will do the trick."

Anna rarely left the palace, yet she had died of fever. She must have caught it from someone. Only humans caught fever.

Emil stuck his head tentatively around the door. "Is everything all right, your majesty?" He reminded her of Olaf, shy and fragile. Olaf had felt solid, but his body had melted into nothingness. She could melt Emil just as easily, if she wanted to.

"Emil, I want every human in the palace out by the end of the day."

"What about your nephews? And their nurse?"

"I'm sending them north. Tell them to pack immediately. Gunnar can escort."

Emil nodded obediently and withdrew. She picked up a report, deciding to bury her unease in her work. A forester had complained to his wife that he'd lost his job. She tossed the report aside. The man was a fool. The next report told of a little girl having nightmares about ice creatures. She tossed that report aside as well. How silly. Her children watched over her people to keep them safe. Some idiot must have put the two negative reports on top.

She grabbed another file. Parents talking only in whispers inside their homes.

Another. Children refusing to play outside.

Another. Groups meeting in basements, discussing ice magic and monsters.

She flung the last report back onto her desk. Her heart was pounding. These reports were lies. Her people loved her.

The window behind her cracked. She jumped, startled. The window was opaque with snow. The glass must have broken under the weight. Wind shrieked into the room, tossing the reports into the air like confetti. Reports swirled through the air. She backed away from the window fearfully.

Arvid woke, growling. "Stop the snow, Elsa."

"I can't!" she cried. "I can't!"

Arvid's shackles rose. "You must." He took a step towards her. Fear rolled through her like a wave. Before she could stop herself, Arvid was melting. He blinked once in surprise and was gone.

"No!"

She closed her eyes, terrified of seeing Sigge, or Dominic, or Leo. She reached blindly for the door, then froze. She couldn't risk running into Emil. She groped her way into her bedroom instead, and pulled open her closet.

She tripped over a pile of empty shoeboxes, sat down in the corner with her back pressed against the wall, and, gripping the door's slanted slats, pulled it closed. Trembling in the dark, she felt like a child again. She was terrified of her power and terrified to leave her room, lest she see someone and hurt them.

She was right back where she'd started.

* * *

**Peace 5.4**

Kristoff waited impatiently as the ship docked. The Earl of Morner had done his job masterfully. The royal guard lined the pier, resplendent in their crimson and cream dress uniforms. An expectant crowd filled the harbor. Children had even climbed up the masts of nearby ships in order to get a better view. The tension and energy were palpable.

The gangplank was extended. Rapunzel emerged from below decks, blinking in the strong light. Kristoff offered his arm. "Welcome home, your highness." He tilted his head slightly towards the waiting crowd and winked. It worked. She smiled slightly, as though relieved to see an old friend, and took his arm.

The crowd exploded, shouting and hollering. Kristoff focused on smiling and walking at the same time. Rapunzel's chin was high, her cheeks flushed. She looked beautiful and proud, a princess returning to her people.

The royal guard formed a corridor through the cheering crowds and up the steps of the castle. Kristoff smiled to himself as he waved to the clamoring throngs. He was counting on the tumultuous reception to help disorient and bewilder her.

The entire court had assembled in the Great Hall to welcome them. The applause was rapturous, but Kristoff kept Rapunzel moving. Already her footsteps were less sure. They passed into one of the smaller rooms, a sumptuous yet serious space of mahogany and green velvet.

The Earl of Morner was leaning on the edge of a credenza, waiting for them. He kissed Rapunzel's hand. "You look marvelous, your highness," he said briskly. He offered each of them a beautifully carved goblet, brimful with a dark, shining liquid.

"Spiced wine," he explained. Kristoff took his with a straight face. Rapunzel, somewhat dubiously, followed his lead. The earl produced a third goblet and raised it solemnly. "Welcome home, Princess Rapunzel. For the second time." He clinked each of their goblets with his own, then drank.

Kristoff followed suit. The wine was rich and warm. He resisted the urge to check if Rapunzel was drinking, but he kept his eyes on the earl. Kristoff couldn't see his mouth, but the earl's eyes crinkled.

Success.

He silently placed his goblet back on the credenza. The earl was already talking to Rapunzel again, his voice smooth and assured. "Now the ceremony will begin in just a few moments." He indicated Rapunzel. "The bride will enter the balcony—"

"Bride?" interjected Rapunzel.

The earl maintained his momentum. "You are the royal princess of Corona." His words were the words of instruction. Of duty. Of inevitability. Kristoff was impressed, even though he'd helped the earl practice his lines. "Mr. Bjorgman is king." The earl brought his hands together, lacing the fingers. "You need to be united."

Kristoff leaned over and took Rapunzel's free hand before she could respond. "I know your Eugene is gone," he said heavily. "And I've lost my Anna. I don't think either of us expected this."

The earl coughed slightly. Rapunzel's head swiveled back to the earl and away from Kristoff, as though she were watched a tennis match. She nervously took another sip of the wine. "Royal alliances are often necessary," the earl explained. "They prevent intrigue and conspiracy." He cast a damning glance at the door and, by implication, at the courtiers outside. Then he looked frankly at both Kristoff and Rapunzel, as though bringing them into a circle of trust. "You understand."

Kristoff squeezed Rapunzel's hand to distract her. Her head swung around again. She was beginning to look confused. "It's for your own safety," he said kindly. "And the safety of your people."

Rapunzel frowned. "But I don't see how—"

"Corona needs a queen," interrupted the earl. He paused for the briefest of moments, then straightened up and nodded approvingly. "Good." He clapped twice. Instantly the doors on the other side of the room opened and several ladies-in-waiting entered, their arms full of clothing. They bustled Rapunzel away with exclamations and laughter. Kristoff watched as they encouraged her to finish her wine. He sighed with relief.

"We're not out of the woods yet," the earl warned him. "But with any luck, they'll be ringing the bells within the hour."

"And your woman is in place?"

"Ready and waiting. Now hurry." He gestured towards a wedding suit that was laying on one of the chairs. "You need to change."

Kristoff didn't move. "Why are you helping me?"

The earl shrugged, as though the answer was obvious. "Corona needs a strong leader. Marrying Rapunzel legitimizes you as king with a neat little bow."

"That's what you've been telling me," acknowledged Kristoff. "Now, what's the real reason?"

There was a long pause. "The queen," the earl said. "The real queen. Rapunzel's mother." His eyes softened. "You never knew her, Mr. Bjorgman. You would have liked her. She was so full of life…" The earl's voice broke. He looked away.

Kristoff understood. "You loved her."

"Yes, I loved her." The earl's voice, which had been so confident and commanding, was now bitter and full of suffering. "I felt her pain as she watched her beloved daughter marry outlaw scum." He growled the last two words and Kristoff realized for the first time how deeply the earl had hated Eugene. But the earl wasn't finished.

"And then that little bitch ran back to be with Elsa. Just like that." He snapped his fingers contemptuously. "The queen was already ill, but when her daughter abandoned her, it broke her heart. She died the next day." The earl's voice broke again. He finished his wine. It seemed to help. He cleared his throat and continued.

"Just before she died, the queen asked to see her daughter. 'Where's Punzie?' she asked. I didn't have the courage to tell her the truth, that her daughter was laying in the arms of the enemy. So I lied to her, Mr. Bjorgman. For the first and last time in my life, I lied to my queen."

Kristoff cleared his throat. "Give me a hand with this jacket."

* * *

**Peace 5.5**

Rapunzel listened to the bells while she waited for Kristoff. They were the saddest wedding bells in the world. She stuck her head out of the carriage window again. Where was he? He'd promised to join her in just a minute, and then they would leave together on their honeymoon.

She leaned back and closed her eyes. She felt drained and a little dizzy. She could barely remember what had happened. The day had passed in a blur. First that ridiculous reception at the docks. Then the whirlwind preparation and the actual wedding.

A small voice told her that the wedding had been a terrible mistake. She should have protested more strongly back in that stuffy little room. But Kristoff and the earl had obviously expected her to go along. It was so hard, not to do what others expected of her. And then, on the balcony, all those people watching! All those eyes! No, by then it had been too late to back out.

Besides, now she was the queen. Queen Rapunzel of Corona. It had a nice ring to it.

She checked for Kristoff again. What could be keeping him?

If only she could have children! Children had never seemed important. They were noisy and messy. But now that she knew she could never have children, she desperately wanted them. They were the most important thing in the world.

Kristoff already had children. It made her jealous to think that he had three and she couldn't have any. It wasn't fair. She wondered if his children would live with them at the castle. She didn't want them around. They would be a constant reminder of her own failure.

Hadn't Elsa named them as her heirs? Perhaps that meant they would have to stay in Arendelle. The whole thing was confusing, which was strange, because she didn't usually have this much trouble thinking. She shook her head to clear it.

She checked again. Finally! Kristoff was jogging down the steps towards her. She sighed with relief. He handed her a small suitcase through the window of the carriage. Rapunzel took it automatically, nonplussed.

"Change of plans, sorry," Kristoff said. He didn't sound very apologetic. "Urgent business. You're to go ahead to the cottage."

Rapunzel pouted. "We're supposed to go together. I don't feel safe, by myself."

"You have your escort." He gestured behind the carriage. Rapunzel craned her head around the side to look. Two royal guardsmen were standing on the back of the carriage. She must not have noticed them before.

"That's not the same," she protested.

Kristoff glanced at the driver impatiently. "It's a long ride. If you want to make it by dark, you need to leave now."

"Dark?" She shrank back. "Just how far away is this cottage?" He didn't answer. "Oh, Kristoff, do come. Please." She reached out and pressed her hand against his strong chest. She hadn't wanted to move this quickly, but she also didn't want to be alone. She let her hand slide to his shoulder. Her fingertip brushed his collarbone.

Kristoff stepped back quickly. She tried to hang on to the sleeve of his jacket, but it slipped through her fingers. "I'm not Johannes," he said. "I don't seduce so easily."

Her heart sank. That one-armed brute had betrayed her. "I don't know what you're—"

Kristoff held up a hand. "Save it," he said harshly. "Did you really think we were going to live happily ever after?"

She glared at him and tried to open the carriage door. She needed to explain properly. Kristoff would understand. But the door wouldn't open. She tried again, pushing and pulling at it almost frantically. The door still didn't budge. Kristoff held up a key. She grabbed for it, but he pulled it away.

She pounded on the plush upholstery with rage. "Let me out this second!"

"Anna died because you wouldn't save her. You didn't even try." His eyes were hard. He looked a different person. She shrank back, frightened.

"That's not true," she whispered.

Kristoff tossed the key to the driver. "Goodbye, Rapunzel. I'm sure you'll enjoy your new home."

A whip cracked, making her jump. The carriage rolled forward, slowly at first, then faster. She stuck her head out the window. Kristoff was still watching her, but moment by moment his tall form shrank further into the distance. Her head started to clear as she realized the truth. He'd tricked her. Right from the start. He'd lied and lied and lied.

No matter. She leaned back and forced herself to smile. Kristoff was a fool, to believe she could be put out of the way so easily. Whoever was waiting for her had no idea who they were dealing with. She'd write to Elsa. The queen of Arendelle would move mountains and freeze oceans to rescue her. She'd be properly grateful. And then Kristoff would get what he deserved.

* * *

**Peace 5.6**

Elsa didn't move for three days.

Gunnar tried to talk to her early on. He brought a tray with coffee and chocolates. His tone as he approached the closet was cheerful and upbeat. He melted before he was able to open the door. After that, they left her alone.

She spent the daylight hours staring out through the slats in the door. She watched the chocolates melt into the carpet. She followed the patterns of sunlight as they moved across the coffee stain.

Nights were worse. She dreaded the nights. She fought to stay awake. She always failed. Each night she had a single dream. Each night the dream was different. Each night the dream repeated over and over again until she was mercifully awakened by her ice birds singing with the dawn.

In these dreams, she was never Elsa.

The first night she was Anna, being turned into ice by Elsa's magic. She felt cold for the first time in her life. The pain was excruciating. When she woke up, she could still feel the pain.

The second night she was Hans, being crushed to death by Elsa's ice giant. She felt terror as her bones cracked. When she woke up, she could still feel the terror.

The third night she was Eugene, impaled on Elsa's icicle. She felt helpless as blood spilled from her mouth onto the snow-covered ground. When she woke up, she still felt helpless.

On the morning of the fourth day news came.

"Are you awake, your majesty?" It was a stranger's voice, high-pitched with fright.

Her power instinctively lashed out. She held her breath and listened carefully. She hoped to hear the voice again. She hoped for blissful silence. The room was still. She exhaled slowly, feeling guilty and relieved at the same time.

The voice came again, more confident this time. "Hello? Can you hear me in there?"

"Yes, I can hear you," she answered testily. The first words she'd spoken since she'd melted Arvid. She sounded hollow. "Do I know you?"

"Not personally, your majesty." Now the voice sounded apologetic. "I used to work in the kitchens."

"You're human?"

"Yes, your majesty."

Sending a human to bother her had to be Emil's idea. "Go away."

"Emil wants me to tell you something."

"Whatever it is, I don't care."

"Kristoff Bjorgman just crossed the border with fifty men. He's marching towards the palace."

The news barely registered. "Good for him. Roll that traitor's head in here when you get it."

She heard faint muttering, as though the stranger human was talking to someone outside in the hallway. Then the voice returned. "The people are joining him, your majesty."

She groaned aloud. To kill Kristoff, she would have to go outside. Just the idea of leaving her bedroom filled her with dread. "Not my problem."

"Your people are in open revolt! They're building bonfires and barricades in Market Square."

Her own people had turned on her. She chuckled bitterly at the irony. She had improved their lives and defeated their enemies. And this was the thanks she got. Fine. She knew how to deal with enemies. She would break their barricades like match sticks. She would scatter their bonfires to the wind.

The fire of her anger refused to burn properly. She still couldn't be bothered to stand up. What difference did it make if her people revolted? She had already lost everything. Her power hadn't saved Anna. Her power hadn't convinced Rapunzel to stay. Right from the start, her power had brought her nothing but terror and loss.

Her power had never solved anything. Her power was the problem.

She knew what she had to do.

She stood up, wobbling as the blood rushed back to her legs. A meek-eyed man was standing in her bedroom. She pushed past him and out the door. The palace was silent and deserted. Even her children were gone.

She stopped at the edge of Market Square. Snow still lay heavy upon the ground, but the enormous space seethed with light and motion. Men were lighting torches at bonfires. She felt a rush of sympathy. What were a few lit sticks against her power?

She deliberately moved out into the open. A shout echoed. They'd seen her. A shudder rippled through Market Square as a hundred heads turned to look. An absolute silence fell, broken only by the crackling of the fires. She could see fear on every face. The whites of their eyes shone in the firelight. They reminded her of Olaf.

Fear is your enemy.

Her people were afraid of her. She was supposed to protect them from their fears. Which meant she had to protect them from herself.

"I'm not here to hurt you," she said loudly.

The air whipped and whorled. A man of ice boiled up out of the snow. Like all her children, she had brought him into a world he didn't understand. But this one was different from his siblings. Instead of hands, his arms fused together at the wrists into an enormous ax. He also had no mouth.

She pulled back the sleeves of her dress. "You will live for only a few seconds," she told him. "But you were born with something infinitely precious, something no other creature has. A purpose."

She turned her wrists up and looked away. Emil was standing near the wall, half-hidden by shadow. Dominic was sitting on his palm. They stood as still as statues, watching, waiting.

The crowd groaned. Two small white hands fell into the snow. Dominic melted into the air. Emil followed. She looked at her last child before it was too late.

"Thank you," she said. Then he, too, was gone. For the last time, she felt the presence of her children as a sparkling mist. The mist faded into nothingness. Her children were dead, every one of them.

The world spun. The ground rushed up and hit her on the head.

* * *

**Peace 5.7**

When Elsa woke, her wrists were neatly bandaged. The strips of cloth were clean and white, unstained. Her head ached and her stumps itched something fierce. She resisted rubbing them against each other.

It took her a moment to get her bearings. She was laying in a hammock in her garden. The air was warm. The snow on the ground was gone. She listened for her birds, then remembered they no longer existed.

"I didn't think you were strong enough," said Kristoff.

She couldn't see him. She propped herself up on her elbows and awkwardly shifted her weight until she was sitting up, her bare feet dangling over the edge of the swaying hammock. She looked around. Kristoff was leaning against one of her trees, eating an apple.

"That makes two of us," she admitted.

He tossed her the half-eaten apple. She reached up instinctively to grab it. The apple hit her in the head. She recoiled, lost her balance, and tumbled out of the hammock. She struggled to her feet, unable even to brush the dirt and grass off her dress.

She glared at Kristoff. "Not funny."

He pushed himself off the tree. "Make me something."

She pictured a small swan, just like the one she'd created years ago in the library. Nothing happened. She tried again. Her hands prickled painfully. She could feel her fingers moving. But they were the hands of a ghost. They weren't real.

"Nothing," she said. The power that had once flowed through her effortlessly was as nonexistent as her hands.

Kristoff loomed over her, close enough that she could smell his sweat. She'd forgotten how tall he was. He grabbed her shoulders roughly.

She tried to squirm out of his grip and failed. She was suddenly very aware that they were alone in the garden. "Let go of me," she pleaded, hating that she had to ask, hating her weakness.

He brushed her throat with his thumb. "Stop me."

She tried to push him away with her elbows, but he pulled her closer, until his breath was hot on her face. She tried to kick him, but her boots were gone and she only managed to bruise her toes. He shoved her away to arm's length, then yanked her back into his body. She felt like a rag doll. If this was what it meant to be weak, maybe she'd made a mistake.

"I can do anything I want to you," he said, as though the idea had just occurred to him. "Aren't you afraid?"

Her whole body was trembling with fear, but she refused to give him the satisfaction. She spat in his face instead. Spittle dripped down his nose. "You son of a bitch."

Kristoff chuckled. He let go of her and raised his hands defensively. "I'm sorry, Elsa. I needed to be sure."

She was still trembling. "You couldn't think of a better way?"

"That was the worst way I could think of," he admitted. "But I had to know."

"You son of a bitch," she repeated.

"Yes."

The admission calmed her. She looked down at the bandaged stumps of her wrists. The white strips of cloth were stained with sweat and grass. "What happens now?"

"You need to be alone for a while."

She sniffed bitterly. "I've been alone my whole life."

"Maybe now you can figure out how," said Kristoff. "There's a cabin being built for you as we speak, far to the north. Unless…"

She smiled ruefully and shook her head. "The cold still doesn't bother me."

Kristoff didn't smile back. "Maybe it should," he said.

She knew she should be grateful to Kristoff. Killing her would have been the easy choice. But she feared the solitude of exile.

She looked around the garden and said a silent goodbye. Now that she knew she might never see it again, it was more beautiful than ever. Everything was green and bursting with life. But her birds were gone.

* * *

**Peace 5.8**

The only thing Rapunzel could see was forest. Rays of sunlight penetrated the thick foliage, forcing her to close her eyes. The staccato rhythm of light and dark on her eyelids was hypnotic.

She must have fallen asleep, for when the carriage finally jerked to a halt and she opened her eyes the sun had already set. She peered out dismally. They had stopped in a forest clearing, in which stood a single cottage. It looked unwelcoming in the dim twilight, its windows small and dark.

She waited meekly for the driver to unlock the door. The long journey had burnt down the fires of her anger. She sifted through the ashes, searching for her resolve. She needed a hot meal and a good sleep. Then she would be ready for battle.

She stepped down from the carriage and immediately fell, sprawling into the dirt. Her legs must had fallen asleep. She knelt down and rubbed them vigorously. Pins stabbed her calves as the blood rushed back. She winced. The driver dropped her small suitcase in front of her. "Let's go," he said brusquely.

Rapunzel summoned every ounce of her dignity. She was Queen of Corona. "Pick that up," she said coldly. The driver laughed like a dog barking. She shivered but stood her ground. "I'm not moving until you do."

"Stop wasting our time," said one of the guardsmen. "We haven't got all day."

He grabbed her arm, his grubby fingers digging painfully into her flesh. She recoiled, shocked. His crimson and cream uniform, which had been so beautiful and clean, was covered with dirt from the road. Sweat stains darkened large patches of the fabric.

He forced her forward. She grabbed for her suitcase and just managed to snag it. The driver snickered. She tried to glare at him, but the soldier had already half-pulled, half-dragged her to the front door of the cottage.

The door groaned open. The vestibule was dark and smelled of decay. She shrank back, but the soldier shoved her inside. She stumbled forward and almost fell. By the time she'd steadied herself and whirled around to give him a thorough tongue-lashing, he'd already slammed the door shut behind her.

The air inside the house was heavy, as though it hadn't moved in years. Sweat prickled her arms and neck. She dropped her suitcase and reached for the door handle to fling it open. A key turned loudly in the lock. She rattled the handle to no effect. Panic crept up her back.

She threw herself against the door, but only managed to bruise her shoulder. She listened through the thick wood as the driver and the soldiers climbed back onto the carriage and drove away. The clip clop of the horses' hooves and the creaking of the carriage wheels quickly faded into the distance.

She picked up her suitcase and clutched it defensively to her chest. She poked her head into the next room, hoping to see something cheerful, but the furniture was moth-eaten and damp. She touched a chair and her fingers came back covered in dust. She wiped her fingers on her dress in disgust, only to realize her mistake too late. She made a face at the sight of the gray streaks that now marred the beautiful white fabric.

She peered into the next room, which was as musty and deserted as the rest of the house. Doubt gnawed at her. Where were the servants?

A woman emerged from the gloom, holding a battered old oil lamp. She didn't say anything, just walked right up to Rapunzel and peered at her inquisitively. Rapunzel tried not to flinch. The woman was short and round. She was wearing thick glasses. A string ran from the glasses and looped around her pale, fleshy neck. The glasses made her rheumy eyes look enormous. They swam back and forth, like synchronized goldfish in twin bowls. Rapunzel didn't like the woman's eyes. They were incurious, as though Rapunzel was worth only the vaguest of examinations.

"I'm starving," said Rapunzel loudly. "When's dinner?"

"No dinner tonight," said the woman cheerfully. "Sun's down. Time to sleep. Work tomorrow, then eat."

"Don't be silly," fumed Rapunzel. She almost stamped her foot with anger. "I've been on the road all day and haven't eaten a thing."

The woman blinked at her. "Nothing to eat," she said.

Rapunzel stirred uneasily. The woman didn't blink often enough. It was creepy. And each blink, when it came, was too slow, as though the woman wasn't actually blinking, just closing her eyes for a moment and then opening them again.

Rapunzel buried her unease. "Fine," she snapped. "Where's my bedroom? Let's get this day over with already."

The woman smiled a wet, gummy smile and led Rapunzel into a narrow, low-ceilinged corridor that contained two doors. "This one," she said, pointing. Rapunzel waited for the woman to open the door, but she just stood there, her head bobbing slightly. Finally, Rapunzel turned the knob herself.

Her heart sank. The room was tiny. It contained a single bed and a washbasin. There were no chairs, no mirror, no closet. Mildew spotted the white walls gray and green.

She laid her suitcase on the bed and approached the single window like a sleepwalker. It was no wider than her head and coated with grime. She stared at her reflection. A worn out stranger stared back. A bewildered woman, dry and faded. Even her hair looked thinner.

She refused to believe it. The image was distorted. She scrabbled at the sill, trying to heave the window open, but it refused to budge.

The woman reached over and slapped her hands away. Rapunzel gasped in shock. "That's not allowed," the woman said reprovingly. "It's not safe."

Rapunzel rubbed at her hands where the windowsill had smudged them black. "Where is everyone?"

"Where's who?" said the woman.

"The staff!" Rapunzel motioned wildly. "The maids, the ladies-in-waiting, the cooks, the gardeners." She stopped to catch her breath.

The woman clucked her disapproval. "You won't need those, here."

Rapunzel froze. "I am Queen of Corona."

The woman chuckled, then coughed phlegmatically as she stepped out of the room and firmly closed the door, taking the lamp with her. The room was plunged into darkness.

"Wait!" Rapunzel cried.

She groped her way towards the door and smashed her big toe against the hard metal of the bed frame. She cursed, then hopped in place, feeling blindly for the bed. She sat down and rubbed furiously at her foot. The bed creaked and sagged beneath her. She reached out and found the doorknob. It rattled, but didn't turn.

The room was so dark she couldn't see the walls. Vertigo assailed her. She clung to the bed as the room spun. She was falling into an endless abyss. Her nightmares were coming true.

She searched for something to hold onto. Tomorrow there would be work. Perhaps she could tend a vegetable garden, or help care for horses. As long as she was let out of this grim and airless house! She needed to see the sun. She needed to feel fresh air.

Uncanny knowledge came to her out of the darkness. She sweated through her dress, then shivered in her sweat. Her hopes were castles in the air. The old woman wasn't a servant. She was a jailer. Every door was locked. Every window was painted shut. She would never be allowed outside.

She buried her head in the pillow and started to cry in her despair. The pillow was soon slick with tears and sweat. She clutched desperately at her last thread of hope. Elsa. Elsa would discover what Kristoff had done. Elsa would rescue her.

* * *

**Peace 5.9**

Elsa was alone. There were no borders here, no trees, no men. Only the flat saucer of land and the upturned bowl of the sky. The wind never stopped blowing.

On the third day, the sun set. It wouldn't rise again for four months.

She was surprised how quickly the hut became home. She settled into a routine. During the hours of twilight, she knocked down the endless icicles and cleared away the wind-driven drifts of snow. The rest of the time, immune to both hunger and the cold, she sat in the doorway and watched the stars.

Her mind was a tumult of anger and regret. She imagined terrible punishments for her enemies. Her thirst for revenge often drove her to her feet and she had to walk around the hut dozens of times before she could sit down again, slightly dizzy but calmer.

She had always blamed her parents for forcing her to conceal her power. But now, staring out at the unobstructed horizon, she found herself incapable of blaming them any longer. She had wasted years feeling sorry for herself. She had trusted the gloves because it was the easy thing to do. She had never taken responsibility.

She realized she had never truly learned self-control. She had only outsourced it, first to Anna and then to Rapunzel. She had felt secure in their love. But their love had been something external, subject to the whims of fate. She had built her house on a foundation of sand. Her failure was her fault. It belonged to her.

One night, she dreamed she was drowning. Water crushed her lungs. When she awoke, she dry heaved, remembering the sailors of Weselton. Everything she'd told herself to justify their deaths had been a lie. The truth was she had enjoyed having an excuse to use her power.

Every time she accepted a mistake she had made, she felt as though a part of her was being burned away. It hurt dreadfully. But slowly she realized it was her worst parts that were being consumed in the fire: her bitterness, her anger, her desire for revenge.

That night, she slept peacefully for the first time in years.

Bit by bit, she started to heal. New feelings, like young plants, sprouted in the hollows of her soul. Instead of wallowing in the past or fretting about the future, she began to pay attention to what was right in front of her. She started to notice the tracks of tiny animals and patches of lichen on the undersides of rocks. She watched, fascinated, as the star-sprinkled sky slowly turned overhead.

Months passed. She felt like a new person. She looked at the world through new eyes. It was no longer hostile. It looked fresh and clean. And not just this stark landscape at the end of the world. All reality was of a piece. It was all beautiful. It was all sacred.

She now remembered her past with the fondness of nostalgia. Kristoff and Rapunzel would find comfort in each other's arms. Her nephew Adam would one day sit on the throne of Arendelle and his brother Karl on the throne of Corona. The world would forget her. The world would move on. And that was good.

The next day the sun peeked its head over the horizon. She joyfully stretched out the stumps of her wrists in welcome. There was a puff of air, a swirl of snow, and a snowman was standing before her, a broad smile carved into its head.

It wasn't Olaf. It wasn't alive. But she trembled at what it meant.

Her power was returning.

She didn't want it to. She feared temptation. She refused to lose the grace she had found in a place that everyone else believed to be empty.

She closed her eyes and concentrated. When she opened them again, an icicle, slender and sharp, was sitting nestled in her lap. She pressed the flat end against her left forearm and the pointed end against her right wrist. The flesh gave way more easily than she'd expected. She winced in pain.

Bright blood splashed across the icicle and onto the clean snow. At first it pumped fiercely, but soon it slowed to a trickle. For the second time in her life, Elsa felt cold. She leaned against the doorway of her hut and watched the sun rise.

Her snowman seemed to watch with her. Neither of them moved. She wondered if her body would ever be discovered. She doubted anyone would bother. To get to her hut required a long journey through a harsh land. No one would ever again see what she was seeing.

She decided not to close her eyes.

THE END


End file.
